


Every Day is Exactly the Same

by ravenstrange



Series: Save Tonight [4]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Death as Comedy, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, F/M, Groundhog Loop, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Johnny and V Die in Weird + Humorous Ways, Overdosing, Resurrection Loop, Resurrection/Death Loop, Russian Doll AU, Seriously All The Trigger Warnings, Trigger Warnings Galore, Warning: Lots of Death but Not Too Graphic, idiots to lovers, kind of slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenstrange/pseuds/ravenstrange
Summary: “If someone had told her that she would be reliving the same fucking shitty fucking concert at the Red fucking Dirt of all the fucking places she would have never fucking gone.”(The Resurrection/Death Loop AU no one asked for!)
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: Save Tonight [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114709
Comments: 200
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruruie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruruie/gifts).



> This is an Alternate Universe & Resurrection/Death Loop story. This means there is going to be a lot of death, and honestly this whole story is just one big Trigger Warning. _That being said_ , the deaths are purposefully not in graphic detail, nor will they ever be in graphic detail. Sometimes it is just left to the imagination. But I just want to get this out here first, before we dive into the story! And if you find that this type of story isn’t your thing, no harm no foul. If I feel a chapter needs more than this blanket trigger warning, I’ll put it in the notes of the chapter. But I promise this story has a happy end. And, as always, story named after a song. 
> 
> Anyway, here’s wonderwall.

If someone had told her that she’d be going to a _secret_ Kerry Eurodyne show at the Red Dirt of all the _fucking_ places, she’d most likely punch said person in the face. There were far better things that she needed to be doing. Like making eddies, for one. A night off wasn’t a night well spent, but Jackie _insisted._ And of course, Misty wanted to go, and it turned into a whole thing. Vik managed to weasel out of it, but V? She wasn’t as lucky.

Outside of the bathroom of the Red Dirt, the music was blasting, and it was a valiant attempt at trying to recover the rock scene that Eurodyne _used_ to be a part of. Inside the bathroom, V was staring at the mirror, trying to get herself hyped up for the night. And also trying not to get frustrated that some dick walked right into her and knocked her drink all over her shirt.

A loud banging on the door and yelling took her out of it, and she made her way to exit as another woman pushed in after her.

At the bar, Jackie and Misty were laughing about something, Jackie waving V back over once he noticed her. “V, you need this,” Misty grinned, passing a beer off to her.

A peace offering for a night she wasn’t into; V nodded a thanks as she took a swig from the bottle. She pointed at the stage, the old rocker keeping the attention of most of those in the venue. “Dude sold out. His music sounds way too overproduced.”

Jackie barked out a laugh. “Chica, you really want to go there? I know what you listen to.”

“Oh, fuck off,” V dramatically rolled her eyes, “you guys wanted a night out, you got one! Don’t really need me here, do you? Not that I don’t love you both _very_ much…”

Misty nodded, “It’s okay, V, I won’t mind if you delta, I appreciate you coming out for a little.”

“Thanks, Mist,” V grins. She chugged the rest of the beer and set it down on the bar. “Pay you back for that, Jackie!” She clicked her tongue, gave Jackie a finger gun salute and started for the door.

“You owe me at least 30!” He yelled at her back, and she threw up a peace sign as she finally exited the bar.

Outside, it was cooler than inside. Her hands immediately went into her jacket pocket, feeling around for her last cigarette and lighter. The sooner she got out of here, the sooner she’d just get back to work. Arasaka was still coming after her for leaving with a _plethora_ of company secrets, she had to try to get Regina to connect her with someone at Militech to send the data to…time was wasting.

Cigarette between her lips, she kept her eyes down as she struggled to get her lighter going.

Not paying attention as she walked into the middle of the road, the same time that a car revved up and sped down towards her. There was no time to react as the car made impact with her body, sending her straight up like a ragdoll and then gravity taking her down and smashing her into the pavement.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told her that she’d be going to a _secret_ Kerry Eurodyne show at the Red Dirt of all the _fucking_ places, she’s most likely punch said person in the face. There were far better things that she needed to be doing. Like making eddies, for one. A night off wasn’t a night well spent, but Jackie _insisted._ And of course, Misty wanted to go, and it turned into a whole thing. Vik managed to weasel out of it, but V? She wasn’t as lucky.

Outside of the bathroom of the Red Dirt, the music was blasting, and it was a valiant attempt at trying to recover the rock scene that Eurodyne _used_ to be a part of. Inside the bathroom, V was staring at the mirror, trying to get herself hyped up for the night. And also trying not to get frustrated that some dick walked right into her and knocked her drink all over her shirt.

A loud banging on the door and yelling took her out of it, and…

“Wait, what the _fuck_?” V patted herself down, checked for any bruises or cuts from being hit by the car. Because she _very_ clearly remembered being hit by the car. And it fucking _hurt._

The banging on the door continued, before the woman busted in and started screaming at V for taking too long. “Yeah, fuck you too!” V screamed back; the door slammed in her face.

The show was still going on. Eurodyne was still playing overproduced rock music. At the bar, Jackie and Misty were laughing about something, Jackie waving V back over once he noticed her. “V, you need this,” Misty grinned, passing a beer off to her.

“I…thanks, Mist,” V muttered, beer in hand. “Anything strange happen?”

“No, V, why?”

“Strangest…feeling. It’s nothing.” V took another drink from the bottle and set it down, as she moved to sit down, but in doing so knocked her arm back against someone else.

Night City was dangerous, you never knew who you were running into or pissing off. In this case, V had managed to piss off one of the more drunk gun wielding denizens.

And _bang_ went the gun, a bullet to her head.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told her that she’d be going to a _secret_ Kerry Eurodyne show at the Red Dirt of all the _fucking_ places, she’s most likely punch said person in the face. There were far better things that she needed to be doing. Like making eddies, for one. A night off wasn’t a night well spent, but Jackie _insisted._ And of course, Misty wanted to go, and it turned into a whole thing. Vik managed to weasel out of it, but V? She wasn’t as…

“ _Motherfucker!”_ V screamed out, staring at the mirror, once more looking for _anything_ from what happened earlier. Because she was shot in the head. But as she felt around her skull, specifically the back of it, there was no exit wound. There was nothing at all. “What the _fuck_ ,” her hands slamming down on the sink.

She looked to the door before the banging started, and threw the door open, gesturing with an eyeroll for the impatient woman with a bad attitude to go past her and slam the door.

V scanned the bar. Still same damn Eurodyne song playing. Jackie and Misty still at the bar.

Guy who shot her lingering at the bar, swaying from side to side, drunk off his ass.

She moved carefully, _slowly_ towards the bar, _slowly_ around the drunk man and let out a sigh of relief once she got to the bar with Misty and Jackie. She didn’t bother sliding into a seat, she just took the beer from Jackie and chugged it, not another word coming from her.

“Chica, you okay?”

“Yep, Jack, just fine,” she let out, “Just, gonna get out of here, okay?”

“Are you sure everything is alright, V?”

“Yeah, Misty,” V shrugged, shoving her hand into a bowl of peanuts and tossing them into her mouth. “Just need to—”

Her air got stuck, the peanuts stuck in her throat, as she tried to gasp for air. Hands slamming on the bar for help, but Jackie got to her side quickly, and soon she was gasping out. Peanuts popping out of her mouth, flying over the bar.

She took a step back, knocking into the man behind her as she caught her breath, “Jack, thanks, I—”

And the drunk man put a bullet in her head.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told her that she’d be going to a _secret_ Kerry Eurodyne show at the Red Dirt of all the _fucking_ places, she---

\---wasted no time in looking in the mirror, waiting for the woman to bang on the door. She moved quickly for the door, but her foot hit a wet spot in the bathroom knocking her off her balance.

Boots skidded, completely knocking her back, her head cracking on the tiled floor.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told her she’d be…

“Okay, _just think, V,_ ” She said out loud to herself, her hands gripping the side of the sink. She took a deep breath. She walked _slowly_ out of the bathroom. She avoided Jackie and Misty all together, avoided the wet spots on the floor, avoided the angry trigger-happy drunk guy, avoided the peanuts, and just left the Red Dirt.

Outside, it was cooler than inside. Her hands immediately went into her red and black bomber jacket pocket, feeling around for her last cigarette and lighter. The sooner she got out of here, the sooner she’d just get back to work. Arasaka was still coming after her for leaving with a _plethora_ of company secrets, she had to try to get Regina to connect her with someone at Militech to send the data to…time was wasting.

Cigarette between her lips, she kept…

…her eyes out in front of her, not bothering to light the cigarette. Sounds of gunshots and explosions rang out from across the street, and she moved her eyes to the sound. Her mouth dropped open a little bit, cigarette falling to the ground, as she focused her Kiroshi to zoom in. 

A man, with dark hair and a silver arm, was firing and laughing like a maniac doing so. Looking _very_ much like a rocker who had been missing for a few years.

“No fucking way…” V moved in a trance, heading across the street to…

Once again get hit by a car.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told her that she’d be going to a _secret_ Kerry Eurodyne show at the Red Dirt _—_

 _“Again!?”_ A burst of frustration escaped her, coming out as a scream as she stormed out of the bathroom and the bar, heading back outside.

Across the street, there was still gunshots and explosions. Maniacal laughing.

Coming from down the street, a car revved up.

She stopped. She waited. The car sped by, and she looked both ways before she ran across the street to see just what the hell was going on.

The car that hit her twice pulled up around the corner, Tyger claws members coming out to attach the NCPD already on the scene. In front of her, a man who still _very much_ looked like Johnny Silverhand was walking headfirst into the fight.

“Hey!” She screamed out, “Wait, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”

He stopped, his back to her, pausing for a moment before turning around to face her. He quirked up an eyebrow, “Not the first time,” he laughed, and he pointed his gun towards her.

And then he fired.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told her that she’d be going to a _secret—_

Leave the bathroom. Leave the bar.

But this time, V was _pissed off_. And if she was just going to relive this fucking night _over and over_ , why not get payback?

Across the street, there was still gunshots and explosions. Maniacal laughing from a fucking dickhead of a person with a silver arm.

Coming from down the street, a car revved up.

Wait for the speeding car. Run across the street. The car sped by, and she looked both ways before she ran across the street to catch up with the asshole.

The car that hit her twice pulled up around the corner, Tyger claws members coming out to attach the NCPD already on the scene. In front of her, a man who _was_ Johnny Silverhand was walking headfirst into the fight.

“Hey!” She screamed at his back, “Motherfucking rockerboy! You flatlined me!” Her hand went under her jacket, to pull out her Overture.

And when he turned around to confront him, a look of surprise on his face that wasn’t there before, she aimed and fired. Bullet between the eyes, as he dropped to the ground in front of her.

Which attention from the NCPD and Tyger claws for one singular moment. Bullet between the eyes, as she dropped to the ground next to Johnny.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told her that…

…she would be reliving the same fucking shitty fucking concert at the Red fucking Dirt of all the fucking places she would have never fucking gone.

Utter frustration flowed through her, anger mixing in with it. Confusion? Sure, why the fuck not. Not sure at all what was going on, and she needed to figure it out if she was going to get back to normal. And never _ever_ come back to the Red Dirt ever again.

So, she continued the routine from last time.

Leave the bathroom. Leave the bar.

But when she left the bar, standing out front with a cigarette between his lips was Johnny. There were still explosions and gun fire across the street.

The car still revved up and sped by.

But Johnny was in front of her, rather than across the street.

She narrowed her eyes, looking at the man in front of her, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. In return, he raised an eyebrow towards her, and waited for her next move.

Pulling her hand out of her pocket, her last cigarette between her fingers. She placed it between her lips and took a step towards Johnny expectantly. Raised an eyebrow.

She heard him snort in amusement, before he fished out his lighter. He lit her cigarette for her, before the lighter disappeared again to his pocket. He took a step back as she took a slow inhale of the smoke and let it out.

They stood staring at each other for a few moments, smoking. Finally, the missing rockerboy spoke, a smirk to his lips.

“So. You too, huh?”


	2. Chapter 2

The words leave his mouth, and her reaction is to immediately raise her eyebrow. She takes another drag of the cigarette and lets the smoke out slowly after. “Me too _what_?”

“Death loopin’.” He says with a shrug, as if it is the most natural and _not fucking confusing_ thing ever.

“Seriously? That is what you’re calling it?”

“Why, you got a better fuckin’ idea, bitch?” He spat back, cigarette discarded and put out with his boot.

She roared with laughter, “I don’t know, I’m talkin’ to someone who has been _missin’_ for five years, so—”

“—you know who I am? Good. The fuck are you?”

“V.”

He sized her up, as she expected the normal questions about her name, but instead he just shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. Anyway, this has been real.” He turned to leave, and she grabbed his metal arm. Johnny looked down to her with an angry glare, as he pulled his arm way.

She rolled her eyes, “You’re just gonna drop that you call this a ‘death loop’, and just gonna leave?”

“Don’t feel like talkin’, so unless you wanna get on your knees and suck my—”

“Oh, for fucks sake, someone put me out of my misery.”

“That can be arranged,” he laughed, as she heard a familiar click of a grenade. She looked to him, as he held out a primed grenade. Then, with a wicked grin, dropped it at their feet.

**_Flatlined._ **

The same shitty song played out of the same shitty bar, while she left the same shitty bathroom and walked outside.

But this time, there was no Johnny Silverhand in front of her or across the street. She was by herself. With the explosions across the street, but still by herself.

There was no sign of him at all.

Her eyes narrowed as she took in her surroundings, the bustle of Night City, and the path to walk _away_ from the Red Dirt. Carefully, she held her hands out to her sides like she was walking a damn tightrope, one foot in front of the other slowly walking down the sidewalk.

Were people looking at her crazy? Yes. Did she care? Not really.

The closer she got back to her apartment in Watson, the more confident she got. A bounce to her step, a smile on her face, she crossed over a bridge; her building oh so close.

But Night City was filled with people who were prone to drive distracted; by drugs, alcohol, getting road head.

Just as she reached the edge of the bridge, smile on her face, a car swerved right into her, and knocked her right off the bridge and into the toxic water below.

**_Flatlined_.**

_Okay. Let’s try that again_.

Leave bathroom. Leave bar. No Johnny.

Walk slowly across bridge.

Dodge car.

And finally, she had made it. Carefully walking up the stairs to her floor instead of taking the elevator, careful to dodge everyone who came near her, careful to get out of the way of anyone who even looked at her weird.

Safely in her apartment.

The relief that came in knowing that she was home and _safe_ pulled an excited laugh out of her. She took out her holo, texted Jackie that she was sorry she had to bail, but the Red Dirt wasn’t really her scene. That, in fact, if she could go without seeing another show there for a long time, that would be great.

Message sent, desire for food hitting her, she punched the button of her vending machine. Only for it not to respond.

She punched it again.

It wobbled, but nothing happened.

She punched it again, the machine sounding like it was acting up, but then stopped.

“Come on!” Frustrated, she punched the machine hard, as it started to shift up away from the wall. The weight shifting on the machine as it started to very quickly tip forward. “Oh. Fu—"

**_Flatlined._ **

Blah blah blah shitty bathroom, blah blah blah shitty overproduced music. Blah blah blah shitty bar.

When she left this time, Johnny was waiting for her, holding out a cigarette for her. “You look like you need it,” and she wanted to punch the smug look right off his face.

“And what have _you_ been up to, asshole?”

“Looped twice on my own, got bored,” and he _sounded_ bored as he spoke, cigarette moving to and from his lips, “You lasted longer this time.”

That was met with a raised eyebrow from her, as she rested a hand on her hip, “Wanna explain this time, or are you gonna use another grenade?”

He laughed at that, grinning, “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”

“You have a fuckin’ death wish?”

“Why?” He asked, “You fuckin’ don’t?”

“No!” She yelled back, those around them looking on strangely, “Why would I fuckin’ have a death wish? What the fuck are you on?!”

“Right now? Synth-coke mostly,” he shrugged, and gestured for her to follow him but he made no attempt to make sure she was actually following him.

Was there any other choice? No. So she rolled her eyes, huffed and followed.

“Where we goin’?” She asked, jogging up to him, and he pointed to a building with stairs going up it.

“Roof.”

“Why?”

“You always ask this many fuckin’ questions?”

“You always this insufferable?”

“Ask around, answer’s yes.”

She didn’t really have an answer for that, as she walked up the metal staircase behind him. Carefully watching her step, not really looking to flatline _before_ she had a chance to see what the fuck was going on.

When they got to the top of the roof, there were two chairs, and a cooler of beer.

“What is this?” She asked, and Johnny looked at her and gestured to the chairs.

“The fuck it look like?”

“That you’re livin’ up here. This where you’ve been hidin’ for years?”

“You know how fuckin’ dumb that sounds? Yeah, been hidin’ on a fuckin’ roof across from the Red Dirt. Fuckin’ idiot.” He took a seat in one of the chairs, grabbed two beers and tossed her one. She caught the beer, opened it and joined him.

Before she took a drink of the beer, she stopped, “How do I know this isn’t gonna flatline me?”

Johnny took off the aviators he was wearing and tucked them into his shirt, making an effort to roll his eyes at her. He then took a long swig of the beer and looked at her expectantly.

When he didn’t die immediately, she took it as an okay cue and took a much-needed drink as well. “Okay, so how long has this been happening for you?”

He shrugged, “Lost count a few loops ago. Can’t ‘member how it started, but thought I was loopin’ alone until you got hit by that car.”

“Wait, you _saw_ that?”

He snorted in reply, “Yeah. Lookin’ at me like a deer in headlights in the middle of the street.”

“Uh, yeah, _that_ wasn’t my first flatline.” She said, reading into her jacket pocket and pulled out her lighter to look at it.

“Wasn’t? Eh, that’s good then. Shit way to go for your first time. Kinda pathetic.”

“What, yours was better?”

“Just told you, don’t fuckin’ remember it. Do you listen?” He shrugged, “Bet it was fuckin’ amazin’ though.”

It was her turn to take a drink, swallow it down, roll her eyes at the man next to her. “Sure, Silverhand.”

He raised an eyebrow, stood up and sat on the edge of the roof. “Whatever, don’t need—”

“—listen, do you know what is going on or not? Because I feel like—”

“—no, I ain’t some scientist. All I know is, gone through a few of these, and then found you were loopin’ too.”

“And what gave you _that_ fucking clue?”

“When you shot me for flatlinin’ you the loop before.”

He grinned at that, like it was the funniest fucking thing he had ever seen, and she found herself grinning in reply. Until he started to lean back over the roof.

“This has been great, but let’s go do somethin’ interestin’,” he said, and then pushed off backwards, allowing himself to topple over the side of the roof.

“Johnny, what—” She jumped up and ran over to the edge of the roof, as her foot hit his beer bottle, completely tripping her over the edge.

**_Flatlined_. **

He was waiting for her at the entrance, arms crossed over his chest with a grin. “Took you long enou—"

She refused to let him finish his sentence, as she screamed out in frustration and smacked him across the face, only making him laugh harder.

Normally, the idea that she just smacked a missing rock legend across the face in the same bar his former bandmate was playing in wouldn’t have crossed her mind. Fuck, she wouldn’t have even thought that was possible.

But she was also reliving this shitty fucking night over and over, and nothing was surprising anymore. Not even the yelling from those around when she hit him.

Johnny, for his part, was completely unphased by it.

“Come on, let’s have some fun.”

Should have said no. _Knew_ she should have said no. But, like an idiot, “What are you thinkin’?”

“Dunno, get away from this shitty bar?” She watched as his eyes moved to the stage, “Kerry won’t notice I’m missin’ anyway.” Said in such a tone that gave her pause, but soon he was dragging her by the arm out of the Red Dirt and heading down the sidewalk.

“Back to the roof?”

“Nah. How are you with guns?”

She raised an eyebrow as she walked next to him, both watching how they walked to not flatline before they wanted to.

Wait, she wanted to flatline now?

“Shot you dead, didn’t I?” She replied with a shrug, and he nodded.

“Guess you did. Good shot too. Alright, good. Got yours on you?”

“Yep. What are you thinkin’?”

“Let’s rob a bank.”

“What?!”


	3. Chapter 3

“Run!” V screamed out, one hand carrying a duffle bag filled with cash, her Overture in the other. Beside her, running backwards was Johnny, a bag of his own, and firing his gun into the bank.

“Told you this would fuckin’ work!” he yelled back, sounding way too fucking pleased with himself, whereas _she_ felt like she was going to fucking have a heart attack with the way her heart was pounding against her chest.

Still running, they got out of the bank and down the street, “We almost got flatlined because you couldn’t stop bitchin’ about Arasaka!”

“Fuck them!”

“Well, we can’t if you _fuckin’ die_ , jackass!”

“Who says we can’t in the next loop?”

“What makes you think there will _be_ a next loop?” She screamed back, as they skidded around a corner and into an alley. NCPD was not that far behind them, and the sound of their droid was getting closer and closer. Shouts for them to surrender, to drop the bags.

“There’s always a next loop,” Johnny yelled back, and decided that instead of running away, he was going to run _towards_ the cops.

Drone took him down with a blast of bullets, and she was shot down moments after.

**_Flatlined_.**

“Okay, see, now _that_ was fun,” he grins at her and it takes all she has not to punch him.

Then she decides against that thought and punches him anyway, socking him right in the jaw. “What the fuck, Johnny!”

He rubbed his chin where she punched him, and grinned, “People are watchin’ us, princess.”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” Her hands at her side, moving in and out of fists.

“Fuckin’ make me, _bitch_ ,” he growled back at her, the grin falling immediately as they both lunged at each other and fell out of the door of the bar, to the ground outside. Hands at each other’s throats, his metal hand around hers, both her hands around his, both squeezing.

They rolled around and struggled against each other in the dirt outside, until she got him on his back, and she was straddling his lap, hands around his throat.

There was a look in his eye, a smirk on his lips, before he squeezed harder and she did the same, just cutting off the airflow until…

**_Flatlined._ **

“Ugh,” she takes the offered cigarette from him outside, taking a long drag. “Did you _really_ have to get an erection during that?”

He just laughed and shrugged, smoking his own cigarette standing next to her. He raised his eyebrows towards her about to say something and she just held up her hand.

“Don’t. Nope, I get to pick what we do this time.” She started to lead them away from the bar, both walking the familiar path they knew they had to walk to avoid flatlining.

Step to the left. Wait for car to pass. Keep walking straight. Pause. Step to the right. Walk straight.

Kept walking until she saw it, eyes lighting up as she pulled Johnny’s arm along with her, “Street race.”

“ _Street race_ ,” he repeated, sounding a little bored. As they got closer to the race, saw what was being handed out, she saw a smile was forming on his face. “Wait, how the _fuck_ do you know how to find this? Who _are_ you?”

V picked up the missile launcher as she grinned, “I participate in these a few times a month. Hope you’re a good driver, ‘cause I’m using this baby,” as she patted the launcher.

He picked out the car, opting for an open top convertible, and revved the engine. “Fuck, wish I had met you earlier, we could have had some fun.”

“Having it now,” She grinned, “If I’m stuck loopin’ with you, might as well enjoy it. Now floor it, I wanna win.”

The pure look of _joy_ he gets on his face after only makes her more determined to make this loop count.

Minute later, the roads were chaos. Their car was on fire, she was laughing much like Johnny had the first time she met him, shooting missiles out at the people behind them, exploding the cars and leaving them in the front. Chaos and destruction, and weirdly enough one of the first times she actively felt _alive_.

Funny, considering the death loop she was in with him.

Running out of missiles, she tossed the gun and turned around, sliding into the passenger seat next to him. “Car’s on fire, it’s gonna go,” she yelled over the radio and he grinned.

“Got an idea,” he yelled back, grinning from ear to ear as the car picked up speed, pushing it as far as it would go as they turned a corner onto the highway.

Until he took a sharp left, hitting the ramp at too high of a speed and the car took flight over the edge of the bridge and started its explosive decent to the ground below.

The two of them screamed out in laughter, right before…

**_Flatlined._ **

The gun clicked against his head, but nothing happened. They both took another shot of tequila before he passed the gun to her. The smirk on his lips, the smug look edging her on.

She lifted the gun to her head, and rolled her eyes, “I don’t even think you remembered to load the—”

She pulled the trigger and the last thing she heard was Johnny laughing.

**_Flatlined._ **

He poured them both drinks, as V watched him set the green bottle back down. “You know, never had Absinthe before. Stories about it true?” Both of them on the roof, settled in their seats next to each other. One of the less crazy ideas they had thrown at each other, wanting to try something that might not _actually_ flatline them for once.

She enjoys the way he looks at her with a lazy smile, how he looks _relaxed_ despite the hell they’re in.

“Depends on the brand you get, but I’ve gotten pretty fucked up on it before.” He lifted one of the glasses, as she picked up her own. “Wanna do the honors?” He asks, with a laugh.

She makes a face, contemplating, before she settles with, “to a new fucked-up friendship,” and he grins wildly.

“Cheers to that.”

Their glasses clinked and they both downed the drink immediately, in unison setting the glasses back down in front of the bottles.

But immediately something doesn’t feel right. They look at each other with wide eyes, as she grabs the bottle he poured from and reads the label. She gasps out for air, holding onto her stomach as she drops the bottle, crashing to the ground. “Johnny.”

“Yeah.” He’s in just as bad of a state, if not worse.

“That wasn’t… _oh god_ , that wasn’t Absinthe. Was…arsenic.”

“ _Oh._ ”

**_Flatlined_.**

“No, come on, it’s a classic move! It’s in all the old movies,” She laughs, swaying next to him, waving her beer bottle around, “Do it!”

“What do I get if I do it?” He looks to her with a wicked grin, as they hold onto each other’s hands as they step up to the ledge of the roof. He finishes his beer and tosses it over the edge.

“I don’t know, what do you want?” It’s a dumb question, because she has a feeling, she knows his answer.

“For you to suck my—”

She quickly puts her hand to his back and shoves him off the high-rise roof. Then, she chugs her beer, tosses the bottle over the edge, and goes diving after him, laughing the entire time.

They manage to collide with each other in the air. For a moment she thinks he’s wrapping his arms tightly around her to hold her against him, as the ground comes up so quickly to greet them.

**_Flatlined_.**

“Don’t fuckin’ shove me off the roof this time.”

“Don’t ask me to suck your dick then!”

“Okay, what if I want to just eat your—”

This time when she goes to shove him off the roof, he grabs her arm and pulls her over the edge with him. She screams out, not in terror, but in _laughter_ , just until it hits.

**_Flatlined_.**

“Stop fuckin’ shoving me!”

“Okay!” She laughs, and holds her hands out, “Okay! I won’t do it.”

“Good.” He smirks, “Because it’s my turn.”

And he shoves her over the edge and goes toppling after her. Once more grabbing onto her, holding her close against him, his laughter deep in her ear before they hit the ground.

**_Flatlined_.**

They’re standing on a roof of a house in North Oak. To get here, they very _carefully_ navigated through the streets. Johnny helped boost her over the fence, and together they scaled the house to the top. Below them, is a pool.

“Whose house is this?” She asks, and he laughs.

“Kerry’s. He ain’t usin’ it right now, is he?”

They pass a joint back and forth, and she’s grinning like an idiot the more they pass it. Johnny keeps wandering forward, looking over the roof edge to the pool below. “You ever see _Almost Famous_?” He asks, turning to look back at her, and she shakes her head. “Okay, okay, so…we’re gonna do somethin’, come ‘ere.”

“What?” She asks, but her voice dissolves into giggles, unable to stop herself as she reaches his side and wobbles a little. He reaches out and grabs her hand, holding it tight within his metal hand.

She’s high as hell and knows somewhere that holding his _hand_ shouldn’t feel as amazing as it does.

“We’re gonna run off the roof, yell ‘I’m a golden god’ and then land in the pool. Classic. Gonna work. Gonna be nova,” he grins at her, and he’s just as wobby as she is. He sways their hands back and forth, and she starts getting the giggles again.

“Let’s do it,” she returns his grin.

Something sharp twists in her chest, but it’s gotta be the weed talking.

They back up and start to run, screaming out the words at the same time as they both jump off the roof, hands still held together. But they don’t actually make the pool.

**_Flatlined_.**

“You don’t know _Almost Famous_ but you know _Princess Bride_? That shit is older than I am.”

“Giving your age away?”

“Besides, didn’t we already do that?”

“You mean you _meant_ to give us arsenic?”

“No, but…feels like we’d be repeatin’ it.”

“Johnny, you’re no damn fun anymore, don’t wanna hang out now.”

“Low blow, princess, I am _plenty_ of fun.”

“Dick.”

“Cunt.”

“…wanna go do the street race again?”

“…yes.”

**_Flatlined_.**

Next time she walks right past him out of the bar, and he follows her yelling about where the hell she’s going this time. She pulls out her gun and waits at the street for the car to race by. After she runs across the street, and hears Johnny cackling behind her because he knows where she’s going.

So, it’s a little bit like repeating, but why not take the enjoyment in taking out the NCPD and the Tyger Claws again?

She’s actually surprised at how well she works with Johnny to bring down both of the factions, when they’re not edging each other on and getting under each other’s skin.

There’s an idea that she has, as he moves to her side, shooting someone else down. She eyes him up and down for a moment, a smirk on her lips before she grabs at him. His eyebrow raises, and he gets a devious smirk on his lips, but when she finds what she wants tucked under his tank top, she pulls back. In her hand is the grenade he used on them before.

He lets out a laugh and looks like he’s trying to shake himself out of whatever thought he just had.

The pin pulled, ready to go, she tosses it towards the remaining faction members and walks away, not even looking back at the explosion.

She has _always_ wanted to do that.

Behind her, Johnny is following her, “ _Shit_ , I think I fuckin’ love you,” his voice is filled with a combination of sarcasm and awe, and she smirks ignoring the weird pull it has on her.

“That’s too bad,” she replies, looking over her shoulder at him. He’s got the smuggest look on his face, and she doesn’t _hate_ it.

Until there’s the sound of metal on the ground between them; a grenade tossed back at their feet.

**_Flatlined_.**

He waits for her with his arm bent out towards her, a gesture of his head for her to loop her arm with his. Two cigarettes lit between his lips; he passes one to her once slides her arm around his. The cigarette tastes of him and a hint of whiskey and tequila, and she wonders why she didn’t notice that before. She also wonders why she’s trying to figure out exactly what he tastes like.

She hums against the cigarette, lets smoke out slowly and notices then that he’s staring at her. Arm still looped in with his, they do the usual careful dance around the things that had flatlined them before, and then it’s back to the building across from the Red Dirt.

Knowing where they’re going, she heads up the stairs on the side of the building first, avoiding the stairs that are broken, the pieces that always fall off. Her cigarette stays between her lips, she hears him climbing the stairs after her. Once she hits the roof first, without thinking about it she holds her hand out for him to take.

His organic hand slips into hers as he steps onto the roof, hand letting go once his feet are on safe and familiar ground.

“So, what’s the plan this time?” She asks, as she watches him move around the roof in the moonlight. She notices how the light bounces off his metal arm, casting shadows she didn’t see before.

He reaches into the ever present cooler and tosses her a beer that she catches.

“Just wanna sit,” he says, but instead of taking the chair he usually takes, he opts to sit on the floor, with his back to the ledge.

She sits down next to him with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Between them on the roof is an ashtray. He’s pulled the cooler of beer closer to them, beer bottles are piling up. She’s pleasantly drunk, eyes up to look at the night sky. Stars are obscured by the bright lights of the city, but she still looks.

“Johnny?”

He hums in response, puts out his cigarette in the ashtray between them and picks up one of the beers for a drink. She brings her eyes back down from the sky and looks to him. He just gestures broadly with his hand as if she wants him to continue.

“How does your loop start? Not about your first death, I know you can’t remember it.” She pushes the beer bottle and ash tray slightly out of the way as she changes her position. She lies down on her back, knees bent, as she looks back up to the sky.

He doesn’t say anything for a little bit, but she hears him drink the rest of his beer. Then, he decides to lie down on the roof with her, his hands resting behind his head. “Always starts in Kerry’s dressin’ room backstage. Always starin’ at the mirror.”

“Backstage?” She asks, as she turns her head to look at him, “So that could mean you were already at the show when all this started.” She paused for a beat, “But I feel like I would have remembered seeing you there. Small venue. You’re kind of…” gesturing broadly towards him, “ _you_.”

He chuckles and shrugs his shoulders into the solid roof under them, turning to also look at her. “Yeah, always backstage. Couldn’t explain why you don’t ‘member me bein’ there, could be I was already backstage when you arrived. Maybe I was keepin’ a low profile for Ker’s sake.”

“For his sake?”

“Sure. Could just take over the show if I wanted to.” To prove a point, he moved his organic hand and raised it between them, snapping his fingers. “Just like that.”

She snorted at that, rolling her eyes. “I dunno, Eurodyne might kill you on the spot.”

“Maybe that’s what my first death was then,” and he grins, winks at her, before he moves his hand to rest on his chest, his metal hand behind his head still.

She looks him over as he returns his gaze to the sky above them, and she watches him for a moment. Ignoring why she _want_ to keep looking at him. “But you’re looking in a mirror.”

“Yep.”

“Huh.”

“What?” He looks back to her, eyebrow raised.

She scrunched her nose up, “I’m always starting at a mirror too. Always in that bathroom, but always starin’ at a mirror.”

“Think it means anythin’?”

To that, she has no answer. To any of this, she has no answer, so the most of a reply she gives him is a shrug of her shoulders. “How long do you wait outside for me?”

He’s still looking at the sky, as he moves his hand from his chest to run over his beard. She watches how his fingers move, tapping on his chin. “Maybe minute, tops? Once I figured out where you looped, kinda just headed there first now. Don’t stay long backstage, if that’s what you’re askin’. Wait longer when you’re freakin’ out in there or screaming about how you’re mad I blew us up.” He grins at that, though not looking at her. She rolls her eyes, a smirk on her lips.

“Guess I’m tryin’ to figure out if there is a timin’ to it.”

“Might be. Once you got hit by the car the first time you saw me, I flatlined almost immediately after.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Which was why I commented that you lasted longer one time. Kept tryin’ to loop, it wasn’t workin’. Then, I was back at the bar.”

She shifted from her position, and sat up on her elbows, looking down at him. His eyes darted from the sky to look at her, his eyes scanning over her with a look behind his eyes she couldn’t place. She pressed her lips together, swallowing down air, something to stop from how dry her throat suddenly got. “Think our loops are timed together?”

“Maybe,” he says, as he shifts, also sitting up, his hands secure behind him. There’s a burst of laughter and chatter coming from across the street; the tell-tale signs of the show getting let out, people heading out to find somewhere else to continue their party. The noise pulls her attention away from him, looking towards the sound but she doesn’t want to move. For a moment, she figures he’s going to get up and get off the roof, go back to the bar and hang out with his former bandmate. Kick her off the roof, until the next loop.

To her surprise, he stays where he is next to her, no hint that he wants to move.

When she turns back to look at him, he’s staring at her. But he quickly pulls his eyes away and gets out a cigarette, lighting it. Instead of giving her one for herself, like he’s been doing every loop for a bit now, he takes a drag and passes it to her. He gives her a half smirk as she takes it from his fingers, and as she smokes, she feels his eyes on her, watching her very closely.

It feels almost too intimate, sharing a cigarette like this. It’s gotta be the beer they’ve been drinking, the shots they’ve been doing. She’s making that up in her head.

As she passes the cigarette back to him, she opts to lie back down, eyes to the sky. “Just realized somethin’. This is the longest I think we’ve lasted in a loop.”

“Huh,” he mutters. She hears him take another drag of the cigarette, remaining sitting up as she lies down. He blows the smoke away from her and rests the cigarette in the ash tray near them, before he looks down to her. “Guess you’re right.”

She has to swallow hard at the view in front of her, his hair falling forward, the moon behind him. She has to look away, back to the sky.

“I’m glad.”

“For what?”

“Honestly? While all the chaotic adventures we’ve been havin’ are fun,” She starts, and he laughs half way through, a snicker before he’s back down on his back next to her, “I hate the dyin’ part. It fuckin’ hurts.”

“Wakin’ up again, rememberin’ each flatline gets old,” he adds in agreement.

“Wait, you agree with me? Thought you had a death wish?”

“Been told I’m chaos incarnate, always gonna have somethin’ like that goin’ on,” they both turn their heads towards each other at the same time. She smiles at that, and his eyes dart over her face before settling on looking at her eyes. “Not gonna say that shit wasn’t a good time though.”

“Got other ideas?”

“Sure,” a sly smirk curls up to his lips, his eyes scanning her face. “But not this loop,” he winks. She ignores it. Tries to. _Tries._

Clearing her throat, “How many loops we have now?” She asks, and they recount the various ones they’ve gone through together, and she counts them off on her fingers, hand lifted in the air between them. They laugh about the ones where they pissed each other off, the ones that just seemed to be a stupid idea, the ones where they weren’t _actually_ trying to flatline that time, the ones that they just really _enjoyed_. “So, all those,” she says when they seem to come to a conclusion, “Plus our first ones—”

“—we countin’ the times I tried to loop but couldn’t?”

That gives her a pause, blinking for a moment but she doesn’t acknowledge the little voice that bugs her in the back of her mind. “No, you weren’t able to. Don’t count. With all those, we’re at about…” she did the math quickly, “30?”

“Shit,” he snorts, “that all?”

“Not lookin’ to go more than that!” She rolls her eyes, shakes her head. She lowers her hand to her side, her fingers accidentally brushing against his organic hand.

Her eyes dart over to his quickly, he has the same reaction.

“Gonna say somethin’, but don’t read into it, alright?” He says, clearing his throat. She nods. “Hate this is happenin’ to someone other than me, but glad I’m not alone. Feel a little more stable goin’ through this with you.”

Without thinking of it, she inches her fingers towards his, this time a not-so-accidental brush of the fingers. He surprises her by just taking her hand in his, warm to the touch.

“I’m glad I’m not alone in this either. Though,” she smirks, “kinda wish I met you some other way. Used to be a huge fan,” she winks, and he laughs. It breaks the weird tension that built up suddenly, though their fingers stay entwined.

“Are you? Don’t seem the type.” The look on his face has turned from a soft expression to a wicked one, and she laughs.

“What, not the type to enjoy good music?”

“Well _fuck_ , maybe this isn’t hell, maybe it’s heaven if I got my own personal fangirl here—”

“Oh, don’t push it,” she laughs, “This is purgatory at _best_.”

They settle into a little pattern of joking around, making fun of each other. She doesn’t know how late it is, doesn’t know what time it is, but when she feels a little relaxed, she closes her eyes.

His hand still is in hers, and she thinks it’s more of a comfort thing for both of them. Not being alone in the loop, but maybe it’s a sign that it’s finally over.

**_Flatlined_.**

“Johnny…did we die in our _sleep_?”

“ _Fuck_.”


	5. Chapter 5

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says again, and she sighs.

“Yeah, Johnny, you said that already.”

“The fuck does that mean? Sure as fuck ain’t healthy, but dyin’ in our sleep seems---”

“—like something else,” she finishes, and Johnny nods. She’s silent for a moment, contemplating the last loop as she runs her thumb on the inside of her hand that he held onto the night before. She traces the lifeline, something Misty had pointed out to her before, how it broke, how it seemed unusually short for someone so young.

If only Misty knew.

“Johnny,” she says as she lifts her eyes from her hand, to find that he was watching her. She clears her throat, pushing down the sudden nervousness that flairs up seemingly out of nowhere. “I think this means we can’t live past tonight. The loop ends at the end of the day. No matter what we do.”

“Isn’t that fuckin’ _nova_ ,” his voice is deep with sarcasm, as he pushes off the wall he usually leans on when he waits for her.

She holds out her hand, “Give me your hand.”

“What?” The sarcasm quickly drops, and confusion takes its place as she grabs his organic hand and turns it over palm up. She traces her pointer finger along his own lifeline slowly; she hears him swallow and clear his throat. Once again, she ignores the out of nowhere heat to her cheeks.

She moves her finger and holds his hand in place, as she turns her own hand over and looks at both of their palms. Both of their lifelines are broken. 

“What are you doing?” He finally asks her, and she looks up again, taking her hands away from him.

“Seeing if your lifeline was broken like mine.”

“My _what?”_

“It’s…nevermind, it’s not important,” she shrugs off, and gestures for him to pick a direction. They can’t stand in the doorway – something they had discovered one loop; it made them easy targets for flatlining.

He picks a direction, and she follows him.

Instead of going outside of the bar, they’re leaning on the back wall in the corner, out of the sight of people who might notice them. Specifically, Jackie and Misty, who are still just sitting at the bar, enjoying each other’s company. Her eyes move from looking at Johnny to looking at the two of them. Jackie’s told a dumb story, because he’s roaring with laughter and Misty is looking at him with a smile of such fondness that it makes V’s heart hurt. There was a time when V thought it had been in the cards for someone to look at _her_ like that.

“Your choombas?” Johnny’s voice is in her ear, deep and a little rough, and she flinches at the intimacy of how close he is. Her eyes widen at her reaction, he just chuckles.

“Yeah. Jackie and Misty. Him and I used to work gigs together, but it stopped when he realized he didn’t want to take the chance of leavin’ Misty alone. And Misty, she’s really good at reading people. Has a shop in Watson, does tarot readings. Taught me about lifelines, palm reading, that stuff.”

The throwaway bout the lifelines registers with him, she can tell by the hum he gives in reply. “Sounds like hippy shit.”

“ ’Cause it is,” V replies in kind, and again Johnny laughs close to her ear. “Weird knowin’ they’re kind of stuck loopin’ with us, isn’t it?”

She looks back to Johnny then, how he’s leaning against the wall. He’s got his aviators on over his eyes, but that’s such a common occurrence she doesn’t think twice about it. “Yeah. Feel bad for Ker, he’s been playing the same fuckin’ song over 30 times now. Never gets past the second chorus.”

“Huh,” V’s eyes move from Johnny to look at the stage, where Eurodyne is still playing the same song. Still very much into it, but it’s the same one. “Never realized the song didn’t progress that much. Maybe it does when we’re not here? Not like we’ve stuck around every time we started a new loop.”

He shrugged, “Stayed around a few times before I found you. Trust me. Doesn’t get past the second chorus.”

“Alright, guess I’ll take your word for it.” Her arms cross over her chest, as she looks back to him, “What if the only way we can get out of this, is you rememberin’ your first flatline?”

Johnny makes a dramatic show of rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “Doubt that, princess.”

“Why do you call me that?”

It’s met with a shrug, and no other response. Her eyes narrow at him. “Besides,” He continues “why would _me_ rememberin’ my first flatline help _you_?”

“We figured out our flatlines are connected, right? So, then that has to be it.”

“Then you have to remember yours.”

“Johnny,” She sighed, “I _do_ remember mine.”

He takes off his aviators and hangs them on the neckline of his tank, gesturing broadly with his metal hand, “Walk me through it.”

“Fine. Okay, so, Jackie and Misty drag me out here, saying that I need to have a life.”

“Funny, considerin’,” he snorts, and she quirks up an eyebrow in amusement.

“ _Anyway_ , we get here. I kinda leave the two of them alone most of the night, wandered towards the back but a bouncer stopped me from going any further.” She gestures towards the back corner of the bar, where a burly looking man stands angry with his arms crossed. “Assuming backstage is behind him?”

“Yep.”

“Some guy bumped into me, spilled my drink all over my shirt. I headed to the bathroom to try to clean it out. I wiped it off, made the decision I was gonna delta. Came out, told Jackie and Misty I was taking off, and then…got hit by a car.”

“That it?” He asks, and there is a look on his face akin to confusion, but he doesn’t ask any other questions.

She nods, shoving her hands into the pockets of her bomber jacket, “That’s all of it.”

“So,” He leans down towards her, his hands on his hips, “Your first flatline _was_ a car.”

The way he’s looking at her now, like it brings him so much joy to be right, the grin that curls up on his lips as he looks at her makes her feel a certain way she refuses to acknowledge. She pushes her hand against his chest to back him up, the look on her face easily matching his own. He doesn’t move, and her push isn’t hard enough. “It was, but I was trying to light my last cigarette,” she said, pulling it out of her pocket, and then pulled out her lighter. “Faulty lighter, didn’t work, distracted me, got hit.”

“Still a shit way to go.”

“And you don’t remember yours, Silverhand, so we’re at square fuckin’ one.” She backs away from him, pacing a little back and forth in front of him, as he relaxes his stance and leans against the wall again.

He puts his hands in the air, “Well you tellin’ me your first time didn’t do shit to jog my memory, so not sure what you want me to fuckin’ do here. Swear, you’re worse than Ke—”

But his words stop immediately, and she watches as his eyes go wide. He pushes off the wall and peeks his head around the corner of the booth they were talking behind, staring at the stage.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” She’s immediately on edge, following him and his stare. Kerry has not only finished the song he was singing, he’s starting another one.

On the small stage, Eurodyne goes on a rant about how song covers are fucking bullshit, and he hates them. But then says that since _technically_ , he helped write this song, it’s not a damn cover.

Then, Eurodyne plays his own version of _Never Fade Away._

Johnny doesn’t stay long, in fact he practically runs out of the bar, shoving past anyone who gets in his way. V follows him, knocking a few people back as she does so, spitting out apologies she doesn’t actually mean as she finally reaches him.

He’s hunched over, his hands on his knees, and as she gets to his side, he looks like he might vomit but doesn’t. Without thinking, she puts her hand on his back, and for the briefest of moments he seems to welcome the contact until he stands up and shoves her away. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

“What happened?”

“Shit is changin’, that—” he jabs a finger in the air towards, “isn’t supposed to fuckin’ happen.”

“So?” She throws her hands up, “Isn’t it a good thing that somethin’ is changin’?”

But he’s storming away from her and the bar, and towards the street. She follows him and grabs his organic hand. He tries to pull it away from her, anger flashing in his eyes, but she holds on tighter.

“Will you just fuckin’ talk to—”

“Nothin’ to talk about—”

“Why is Eurodyne playing that freakin’ you out so much?”

“ _I don’t fuckin’ know_!” He screams back, finally prying his hand from her and steps back into the street. And she realizes then it’s not anger that is playing in his eyes, it’s _panic._

She doesn’t have time to reply before the car that has taken her out so many times before, takes them both out.

**_Flatlined._ **

When she steps out of the bathroom, he’s not immediately in front of her. For a moment, panic starts to set in, until she hears him, “Outside, princess.”

His voice carries through the open door, and she follows it. He’s pacing back and forth, kicking up rocks as he does so. It’s not the first time that she’s seen him pace in this exact spot with anxious and chaotic energy, but something feels different now.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuckin’ preem, V,” he hisses back. He’s not looking at her, he’s looking everywhere _but_ her.

She shoves her hands into her jacket pockets, fingers fumbling around the objects in there. “You’re a terrible fuckin’ liar, you _know_ that right?”

“Fuck _off_ ,” he replies, but there isn’t any heat behind it.

“Mean it. Think we’ve both flatlined together too many times to lie,” She smirked, as she pulled out her last cigarette that was always there. She held her hand out, fingers moving in a gesture to get his lighter.

He pulled it out, placed it in her hand. She flipped the zippo lighter over in her hands a few times, fingers running over the raised initials there that she didn’t recognize, _RJL_. Cigarette lit, lighter passed back to him, she took a drag from it before she passed it to him. “Whose initials are those?” She asked, as she watched him take the cigarette from her fingers, a touch lingering a second more than she expects.

“Mine,” he replies, before taking a long drag of the cigarette, closing his eyes and letting the smoke out slowly. When he opens his eyes again, there’s something she can tell he’s thinking about, but he’s not saying it. He returns the cigarette back to her. “Don’t want to stay around here this loop.”

“Don’t you think we should—”

“No,” he immediately snaps back, “We’re stuck in this, might as well try to enjoy it.”

Flicking some ashes to the ground, she raises an eyebrow, “We did that already.”

“Not what I’m thinkin’ of, come on.” She expected him to walk away from her, not wait for her to follow. Instead, he bent his arm, and raised an eyebrow.

Looping her arm around his, they passed the cigarette back and forth as they continued their path that they both had done so many times before. Eventually, he led them to his car.

She got into the passenger seat, and he settled in behind the wheel as they started off towards the destination he had in mind. Carefully, focused, not wanting to flatline them. V stayed quiet as he drove, taking a last drag of the cigarette before passing it towards him.

Leaning over to him as he drove, she held the cigarette out for him to take, but he didn’t reach for it with his hands. Instead, his eyes darted to look at her for a moment, as he parted his lips. Then he returned his eyes to the road, as if she’d do exactly as he had silently asked.

She placed the cigarette between his lips, and leaned back, ignoring the heat in her chest. The only sound from him was a dark chuckle, as he finished off the cigarette and tossed it out the window. He reaches over to the radio, clicking it on to a rock station and turns it up, music filling the spaces between them.

When it comes to a song she knows, old by Night City standards, she rocks out to it obnoxiously, not caring if the rock legend next to her is judging her at all by it. Though she sneaks a look at him because she finds she actually _does_ care. A little bit. Which is a strange realization to have while in the middle of a death loop cycle.

He’s grinning, joins her on the next chorus, and they just continue to scream out the lyrics to whatever song comes on as he drives them through the edges of the city. Sometimes she just stops to listen to him singing out to songs that aren’t his, his distinct voice carrying the song further than it might have gone just on its own. And she had always been a fan, but never had the chance to see him play – this was the next best thing.

Her own personal rock show with her partner in death and wasn’t that the most fucked up thing that happened to her in this city.

But then the car pulls to a stop, and he cuts the engine, grabbing his keys and shoving them into his pocket. An act of normalcy in all this, because she thinks they both know they might not make it back to the car given how things were going.

She gets out of the car and sees where he brought them; the Pacifica Pier, the assortment of rides and shops that only remained half functioning. He gets out of the car after her and stands next to her with his hands on his hips. “Ta da,” He grins, and she soon finds that Johnny fucking Silverhand is looking to her for _approval_.

With a tilt of her head, she laughs, “Why here?”

He gestured to the rollercoaster, “Heard people got that piece of junk up and runnin’ a few weeks back. Wanted to finally ride it.”

“Never been on it?” She asked, starting to walk in the direction of the coaster, Johnny easily matching her pace and falling in next to her.

“Nope. Never had the time. You?”

“Almost did with Jackie once. But we never did.”

Groups of people were loitering around on the pier, but for the most part no one seemed to bother them. The coaster wasn’t in use, but it did seem to be up and running – she followed behind Johnny as he went up to the cart to investigate it, and then gestured for her to get into it.

“What, ladies first?” She snorted, rolling her eyes as she got in and sat down, “Being awfully nice tonight, Silverhand.”

“Don’t read into it,” he replied, getting into the cart with her.

The only safety precautions in the cart were flimsy seatbelts and a metal bar to come down on their laps; a realization made too late as the coaster already started them down the track before they could get themselves situated or back out of the situation.

She tightened the strap around her waist, her hands holding down the metal bar. Next to her, Johnny did the same. “Fuck, what if I fall out if this?”

“I’ll hold you down, princess,” he replied, “bet you’ll scream.”

She quirked an eyebrow, “When you hold me down, or when this ride really takes off?”

He barked out a laugh as the car reached the top of the first hill, and the descent started quickly.

Next to her, Johnny was screaming out a laugh, and she was holding onto the bar with dear life, the speed in which the cart dropped down the track causing her to lift up in her seat. She yelled out in surprise, and felt his arm quickly wrap around her and pull her back down – his metal hand staying on her hip. To secure her to the cart, of course, certainly not for anything else.

The speed continued to pick up as the cart drove them around sharp turns and up and down hills. As the cart sped them along, she found physics slid her into his side more, both of their bodies knocking against each other, both with wide grins on their faces.

They hit the next hill and started the drop, but she felt the cart start to move off the track before it actually did.

It felt like slow motion.

The cart picked up speed from the drop, but the front wheels of the cart became dislodged, driving it off the rails and into the air. Their projected path was going to send them into an explosive loop end right into the support beams of the coaster. Her eyes met Johnny’s, both knowing what would happen.

Or she had _thought_ she knew what would happen, he just surprised her. His metal arm around her pulled her tight against him and his other hand moved to behind her neck as he crashed his lips hard against hers. A kiss she eagerly returned, her own hand moving into his hair, working to deepen the connection right before the inevitable end.

**_Flatlined._ **


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle reminder to read the warning tags.

Her fingers lightly trace over her own lips, as she allows herself a small moment in the mirror before she goes out to meet him. A smile slowly forms, deciding that even though she still feels the pain from the flatline, what happened _before_ that feels stronger.

But when she steps out of the bathroom and into the bar, Johnny is nowhere to be found.

He’s not leaning against the usual wall waiting for her. He’s not bitching and ranting outside. He’s not across the street exploding Tyger Claws. He’s just…not here. At first, she’s annoyed, thinking that whatever might have been building between them in the loops was just a joke.

But she remembers that even if they’re pissed at each other at the start of a loop, they still are _around_ the other; the only other person who knows what they’re going through. They’ve been through this over thirty times now. Patterns were taking hold.

And he just wasn’t _here_.

Panic shoots through her like electricity, as she tries to move through the crowd, looking for him. He has a metal fucking arm; how hard can it be to find him?

But there’s no sign of him, and she’s—

\--an arm reaches out and grabs her, and she speaks before she turns around, “Johnny, oh god I—”

But it’s not Johnny who grabbed her arm. “Johnny? Chica, you got someone you’re not tellin’ me about?”

_Fuck_. She offers an awkward laugh and Jackie releases her arm, as she moves her hand to rub the back of her neck awkwardly. “Sorry, was just…lookin’ for someone. Don’t worry about it, Jack.” Jackie doesn’t believe her though, because he _knows_ her too well. Maybe that’s half the problem.

“V, are you sure?” Misty asks, a look of concern on her face, and V has to look away.

“Yep! Preem.” She nods, takes the beer that Jackie always offers, and downs it quickly. “Don’t want to bring down your cute little date though – I’m gonna just…wander around a bit, okay?” She doesn’t wait for Jackie or Misty to reply, she just leaves them at the bar.

Again.

Fuck, she was a shit friend, but unfortunately that wasn’t her biggest concern right now.

On stage, Eurodyne is finishing the second chorus of the song, and she starts to look around with more of a concern. Pushing through the crowd near the stage before she sees it.

Johnny had told her that he always started his loop backstage, and now the only thing standing in the way of her and going back there was a bouncer.

“Hey, need to go backstage,” She said, standing tall, glaring at the bouncer.

“No one goes backstage.”

“You don’t get it. Need to go backstage. You’re not gonna stop me.”

The bouncer laughed at her, “Move along, choomba.”

“Oh, fuck it,” she grumbled, as she formed a fist and with her Gorilla Arms activated, swiftly punched him hard in the dick. The reaction from the bouncer was instant as he immediately grabbed his crotch and dropped to his knees. Due to the loud screaming around them, his own was drowned out.

She flexed her fingers, stepped over the bouncer and opened the door to backstage. Behind her, on stage, Eurodyne goes on a rant about how song covers are fucking bullshit, and he hates them. But then says that since _technically_ , he helped write this song, it’s not a damn cover.

But she’s heard this once before, remembers Johnny’s reaction to it – it forces her to run through the door. “Johnny! Where are—”

When she gets to the back room, she hates what she finds.

He’s lying face down on the floor, back to the door. An empty bottle of pills and two empty bottles of tequila are next to him. “Oh fuck, _Johnny_ ,” she mutters as she runs towards him, sliding down on her knees, fingers to his wrist to try to feel for a pulse. But she already knows the answer. And this must have been how it started.

Suddenly, something, _everything_ felt wrong. Sudden loss of breath, loss of vision, and she collapsed onto the floor next to Johnny as outside the room, Eurodyne started _Never Fade Away_.

**_Flatlined._ **

Her hands gripped the sink tightly, and she closed her eyes. Proof that their loops were linked, maybe proof that their first flatlines were connected, but she still couldn’t figure out _how_. And part of her didn’t want to leave this, to be stuck again seeing his first flatline, because she didn’t know if she could without knowing how to stop it. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen both of them flatline before; but this one had felt…

…like she could have prevented it somehow and she wasn’t sure why she had felt that way.

But as it always went, a loud banging on the door and yelling took her out of it, and she made her way to exit as another woman pushed into the bathroom after her.

When she exited, she expected him not to be there again.

Instead, she looked up to see him worried, waiting, and when their eyes met it was like a wave of relief had crashed over her. She practically ran over to him, and blurted out, “ _Fuck_ , please tell me you remember me.”

His voice is rough, “Princess, don’t think I could fuckin’ forget you if I tried.”

Confirmation with what she needed, she put her arms around him and hugged him – a gesture he wasn’t expecting judging by how she felt his body stiffen under her touch. But then she felt him relax against her, almost melt into her, as he wrapped his arms around her for a moment.

The sound of someone clearing their throat next to them caused V to step back from Johnny, and she gestured with her head for him to follow her to an empty corner of the bar. “Gonna tell me what the fuck happened?” He was the first to ask once they settled somewhere _slightly_ more private. “Don’t want to fuckin’ experience that again.”

She watched as he ran a hand over his face, before digging out his cigarettes. “Experience what?”

“Looped, and everythin’ was gone. No people, no music, no _you_ ,” he rambled, lighting the cigarette with the click of his zippo, and didn’t seem to visually calm until he was able to inhale the smoke, and let out the excess. “Couldn’t leave the bar either. Was fuckin’ stuck here, by myself, until I flatlined out of nowhere. Looped back to now.”

As he spoke, she sunk into a booth, biting her lip. “ _Fuck_ , Johnny.”

“What?” He slid into the booth next to her, not across from her. As it was custom now, he held the cigarette out, she took it for her own hit of it, and gave it back.

“I looped back here, and I couldn’t find you. You were gone. Anywhere I looked you just…” For a moment she looked away, closing her eyes. Which was a bad idea, because all she saw was the image of backstage. How she had found him. Eyes opening immediately again, she cleared her throat. “Johnny, I found you backstage.”

“What, and I didn’t remember you?”

“No, Johnny. You were…dead. Went to check on you, and then I flatlined right next to you.”

He goes silent next to her, smoking the rest of the cigarette and puts it out in the ashtray on the table. When he gets out of the booth, he holds a hand out to help her up. She shouldn’t take it, but she does, and he slowly pulls his hand away from her once she’s standing.

He starts walking into the crowd, weaving in and out between people. They ignore the whispers of “ _Is that Silverhand?”_ that follow them as they make it towards the bouncer.

There’s no fight on them going backstage, clearly the privilege of being Johnny Silverhand and being _with_ Johnny SIlverhand that the bouncer doesn’t give them a second glance as they walk through. The door shuts behind them, but they can still hear Eurodyne through the walls.

Johnny is quiet in front of her as they reach Eurodyne’s dressing room. Bottles of booze and various ashtrays litter the room, and a bottle of pills sits on the ledge. A giant mirror is behind it. She recognizes the pills instantly, and clears her throat uncomfortably looking at them.

“Why are we back here?” She finally asks, as she steps forward to him. He stands at the mirror, picking up the pill bottle in his hand and looking over the label, before he sets it down.

“Tryin’ to jog my memory. You said you found me here, right?”

“Yeah.” The word feels heavy in her throat, heavier after it leaves. Settles uncomfortably in the air between them.

Johnny walks away from the mirror and moves towards her, “Gonna need you to walk me through it again,” he says, but his voice is quieter. Like he’s worried about something.

“You sure?”

He nods, and she walks him through it again. Talks him through what her last loop was. How she found him exactly.

When she’s done, his face twists in confusion. “Thought that somethin’ might—”

Outside of the room, Eurodyne is starting _Never Fade Away_ again – the third time she’s heard it, second time Johnny has. She turns to look to the door, and then turns back to Johnny to see him slowly sinking into the couch, his eyes wide.

He’s staring at a spot on the floor, but she knows exactly where he’s looking and why he’s looking there. She moves to his side, sitting down next to him as he leans forward, arms resting on his knees. Hands hanging down between them.

“V, think I remember now.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _“I can't remember how this got started, but I can tell you exactly how it will end.”_
> 
> Buckle up friends, it’s a Johnny chapter.

If someone had told him that he'd be sulking around backstage at Kerry's not-so-secret show at the Red Dirt of all the fucking places, he'd most likely punch said person in the face. But at this point in his life, that person he’d be punching would have just been himself. If _that_ wasn’t a damn sign of just how low he had fallen, then he didn’t know what was.

Outside of the dressing room of the Red Dirt, the music was blasting, and it was an attempt at trying to recover the rock scene that Kerry _used_ to be a part of. Inside the dressing room, Johnny was staring at the mirror, trying to get into some sort of _mood_ for this. Or a better one than the one he was perpetually in.

He was aware of the ‘mystery’ that was surrounding him; it had been a few years since he had been in the public eye. Only two people knew the reason why he cut and run, and one of them was screaming on stage. Over-produced Corpo-approved music, but _fuck_ Kerry looked happy. Johnny hadn’t seen him like that in so long. Hell, he hadn’t felt that way in so long, that it seemed so fucking foreign to see on someone else’s face.

He takes the leather jacket he’s wearing off and tosses it onto the couch, deciding to fuck with Kerry a little bit. Go into the crowd, see if he can steal the attention away, because even after all these years he wants validation. Something. _Anything._ Always fucking chasing that validation that he never got, the release from the anger he always felt, it never came. Screaming until he was raw, and it didn’t help – it had never helped.

The breakdown he had that led to him cutting and running years ago also didn’t help, but that could have also been the drugs and alcohol talking. How he self-medicated was his own damn business, and everyone else could go and get fucking bent for all he fucking cared. They certainly hadn’t given a fuck.

His hands slammed down on the table in front of him and he pushed off it, storming out of the dressing room and into the bar.

Kerry was on stage, the crowd was fucking loving it, but for all of Johnny’s pride for his best friend, he expected that there would be some commotion that a missing legend had shown up at the show.

He was Johnny fucking Silverhand, show some god damn fucking respect, Night City.

Only, there were enough impersonators in the crowd of both him and Kerry that he wasn’t noticed at all. Didn’t matter how many fights he got into, or how many drinks he downed, the crowd was more laughing _at_ him than with him. As he pushed through, grabbing drinks off other people and downing them, the realization hit him that no one actually _believed_ he was even there.

A dangerous concoction of anger and desperation shot through him, feeding on the stored-up resentment and depression of the last few years. Enough was enough. What was the fucking point? No one honestly gave a fuck that he went into hiding for years other than Kerry and Rogue, and Rogue finally cut ties with him over five months ago.

_Enough._

Kerry was doing _much_ better without Johnny hanging around holding a shadow over him; in fact, it was almost as if he wasn’t fucking there at all.

_Enough._

He stole two bottles of tequila from behind the bar, punching out anyone who tried to fight him on it and stormed back towards the backstage area.

A woman in a red and black bomber jacket collides with him, and he shifts back, her drink getting knocked all over her shirt. “Ah, _fuck_ ,” she gets out, but she doesn’t seem too angry about it, just resigned. She doesn’t look at him, as she mutters apologies for walking into him, and disappears into the crowd.

Normally, he would have called her a bitch, told her to fuck off. The drunk state mixed with his mood, he didn’t react at all. Rock bottom always did look nicer behind red-tinted aviators, one of the reasons he wore them at all. 

He shoved past the bouncer, back into Kerry’s dressing room. Trying to pull himself out of the state he had been in, had only been worse by being here. He was slipping again, falling further, and he wasn’t going to stop himself this time.

The pills don’t belong to him, but he never buys his own drugs. He doesn’t know how many he takes; he just keeps taking them and washing it down with the bottles he stole. The world goes fuzzy, things stop feeling like anything, and he collapses to the ground in a haze.

The last thing he hears before everything blacks out, is Kerry speaking into the microphone over the opening notes of _Never Fade Away_ : “Johnny, this is for you.”

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told him that he'd be sulking around backstage at Kerry's not-so-secret show at the Red Dirt of all the fucking places, he'd most likely punch said person in the face. But at this point in his life, that person he’d be punching would have just been himself. If _that_ wasn’t a damn sign of just how low he had fallen, then he didn’t know what was.

Outside of the dressing room of the Red Dirt, the music was blasting, and it was an attempt at trying to recover the rock scene that Kerry _used_ to be a part of. Inside the dressing room, Johnny was staring at the mirror, trying to get into some sort of _mood_ for this.

Only there was one problem. He didn’t know what type of mood he was in at all. He couldn’t remember anything he was just doing and staring up into the mirror, he had a feeling it was something important. The feeling of unwanted guilt washes over him, and he curses himself out before he storms out of the backroom.

He needed some air, shoving his way through the crowd, pushing anyone that dared to get close to him, as he went outside. Across the street, Tyger Claws were fighting NCPD. Typical for Night City, typical for the area, but he avoided it.

Instead, he went to the building across the street, the rooftop that he knew so well, and started up the metal stairs. They creaked under his weight as he moved up them like he had done so many times before, but his hand slipped, and he went topping over the edge from the top stair.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told him that he'd be sulking around backstage at Kerry's not-so-secret show at the Red Dirt of all the fucking places, he'd most likely punch said person in the face. But at this point in his life, that person he’d be punching would have just been himself, and…

“What the _fuck_?” A raised eyebrow in the mirror, he immediately started to pat himself down, to look for any scars from falling from ten stories to the pavement but found none. But the memory was so damn vivid in his head…

…he must have been losing it.

He needed some air, shoving his way through the crowd, pushing anyone that dared to get close to him, as he went outside. Across the street, Tyger Claws were fighting NCPD. Typical for Night City, typical for the area.

He lit a cigarette, shoving his zippo back into his pants pocket, his fingers twitched at his side. Something in him was itching for a fight, and why not take on the Tyger Claws? He had no reason _not_ do to that. Right?

Determined, he started across the street, pulling out his gun. Cocky, self-assured, starting to feel a little bit like his old self for reasons he didn’t question.

But determination also meant distraction, making him walk into the middle of the road the same time that a car revved up and sped down towards him. There was no time to react as the car made impact with his body, sending him straight up like a ragdoll, then gravity taking him down and smashing him into the pavement.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told him that he'd be sulking around backstage at Kerry's not-so-secret show at the Red Dirt of all the fucking places, he'd most likely…

“ _Fuck!_ ” He screamed out again. Once again, he remembered the flatline, he remembered the car hitting him like a ton of bricks and _fuck_ , if that didn’t hurt.

He took his anger out on the nearest thing to him; a vending machine that he punched too hard with his metal hand, as it topped down towards him. “Oh, motherfuc—”

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told him that he'd be sulking around backstage at Kerry's not-so-secret show…

…he’d laugh in their damn faces, because instead of sulking around, he was _dying_ all the fucking time. And did that mean he was immortal? He didn’t fucking know, but he wasn’t going to waste this staying at the Red Dirt listening to Kerry play the same damn song that never got past the second chorus.

He needed some _excitement,_ shoving his way through the crowd, pushing anyone that dared to get close to him, as he went outside. Across the street, Tyger Claws were fighting NCPD. Typical for Night City, typical for the area.

He lit a cigarette, shoving his zippo back into his pants pocket, his fingers twitched at his side. Something in him was itching for a fight, and why not take on the Tyger Claws? He had no reason _not_ do to that. Right?

Right.

Determined, he started across the street, pulling out his gun. Cocky, self-assured, starting to feel a little bit like his old self for reasons he didn’t question.

He darted across the street before the car ran him down, and with gun drawn he started firing at the two groups of people fighting. Laughing manically, as if it was the first time that he had felt _alive_ in years.

Behind him, he heard the revving of the car, and it distracted him as he watched a woman that he had never seen before, in a red and black bomber jacket, get hit with the car – going up flying the same way he had.

And being distracted watching that, meant he didn’t hear the Tyger Claws member come up with a katana behind him.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told him that he'd be…

…having the time of his life flatlining all the time, he’d laugh. But that was exactly what he was doing, wasting absolutely no time before getting back across the street, getting back into the fight with the Tyger Claws and NCPD. He wanted to find that motherfucker with the katana that got him last time.

And he found him, shooting them instantly, his own maniacal laughter returning in full form.

But then something _new_ happened. A new distraction.

“Hey!” A female voice screamed out behind him, “Wait, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”

When he turned around to look at the woman who yelled at him, he recognized her. Red and black bomber jacket gal who got hit by a car before. She had distracted him, managed to get him flatlined last time.

Not this time.

He quirked up an eyebrow, “Not the first time,” he laughed, and he pointed his gun towards her.

And then he fired.

She dropped to the pavement instantly, and he turned back around only to find an NCPD cop standing right in front of him, gun pressed to Johnny’s head. “Oh, fu—"

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told him that he'd…

…be pushing past the pain of every past flatline, only to chase the next one---

“ _Fuck_ , think I’m going insane,” but even saying that out loud didn’t stop him as he made his way back across the street. Back into the fight.

But once again, the angry pistol wearing the red and black bomber jacket appeared. This time screaming at him differently. Anger curling up in her voice, pulling him towards her like a siren call. One he answered willingly.

“Hey! Motherfucking rockerboy! You flatlined me!”

Wait, she recognized him? Wait, she remembered him flatlining her?

_That_ was very new.

He turned around to confront her, but only a look of shock registered on his face as his eyes immediately went to the Overture pointed at him.

And then she fired.

**_Flatlined._ **

If someone had told him that…

…there would be someone else stuck in this type of death loop with him, he wouldn’t know what to do with that information. Or that he had taken to calling it a ‘death loop’ and that seemed normal. But suddenly, he didn’t want to chase that next flatline _just_ yet. Because his curiosity was getting the better of him.

He made quick work of getting out of the bar, but this time he didn’t cross the street. Instead, he pulled out a cigarette and his zippo, lighting it. Stood in front of the entrance of the Red Dirt and waited.

The bomber jacket woman came out, fire behind her eyes but stopped in her tracks as she stood in front of him. The recognition was there, he could see it. And it wasn’t for him being who he was, that he was in Samurai, wasn’t for his solo music career, wasn’t for any other bullshit reason people knew of him these days. It was because they both flatlined each other and were somehow both still going through the same death loop.

As he raised an eyebrow towards her in reaction to her looking at him, he realized he was glad that there was someone else going through this with him. Because now at least he was finally _seen._

And the last time he felt seen was so many years ago, he lost count.

The expectant look she gives him when she puts her cigarette between her lips makes him snort, and he wonders just who the fuck this woman is that he knows he’s going to connect his rope to. He lights her up, looks her over, and smirks.

“So. You too, huh?”


	8. Chapter 8

When he finished telling her what he remembered, silence fell between them.

He took off his aviators and tossed them to the small table in front of the couch. She watched as he ran his hands over his face, hands covering it completely before he slid both of his hands to his forehead. The only sound she hears for a long time is his hitched breathing, and she recognizes the pattern.

It’s not until she reaches out, puts a hand on his back to make him aware that she’s still here that he says anything at all.

“Fuck.”

It’s the only word he says after a long time, and she can’t help but agree with him. “Yeah,” her voice feels thick, doesn’t feel like her own. “I get why you couldn’t remember now.”

His hands slide down his face again before he unceremoniously drops them and allows himself to sink back into the couch. Johnny doesn’t look at her, he stares at the table, he stares at the floor. “I had come here to say goodbye to Kerry. Didn’t really have an idea of where I was goin’, or what I was doin’, but I was tired. Am tired.” Leg bouncing anxiously, lips twisting in frustration. “Ton of shit that I did in my life, shit I lost, shit I saw, that I just couldn’t take it anymore. Cut and run, did anything I could to numb any sort of…”

His voice trails off for a moment as he finally turns his head to look at her. “Every person I considered a friend, wasn’t one. I got the uncanny ability to shove everything away. Toxic ways of coping with the bullshit. Thought I had hit a low before, and _fuck_ , somehow got lower. But what I don’t get, is why you are connected to my bullshit. Don’t like that I got you caught up in my fuckin’ loop.”

She looked down at what she was wearing, at her bomber jacket, and sighed. Gestured to herself, “Guess you’re the guy who spilled the drink on me. And I didn’t even notice it was you.” The level of guilt that she has realizing that, combined with everything that he just told her, sinks in heavily. She ends up following his lead in sinking into the couch.

Her arm brushes against his, and for a moment he flinches at the contact before he allows himself to lean into it.

Somehow, that makes her feel worse.

“Ah.” His voice is quiet.

V scrunches her nose up, twists her lips between her fingers before she drops her hand to her thigh. “What if that’s why we’re in this together? That I was supposed to help you, and I didn’t?”

“How’d you even know to do that?”

“No idea.” She shrugs, but then, it’s like a light bulb goes off. What if she’s supposed to help him _now_? She didn’t before, but she could now. Now that she had gotten to know him, gotten to see him for who he was, recognized the darkness in him that unfortunately met well with what she held within herself. “Have you ever talked to Eu—erm, Kerry about any of this? The shit you were feelin’, all that?”

He raises an eyebrow towards her, looking as if he’s ready to write off the question. He shakes his head, “Nah. Don’t really talk about that shit.”

“Think maybe you should.”

“And tell him what?” Johnny finally scoffs at her words, rolling his eyes in frustration. “That I’m fucked in the head, coping mechanisms are shit, just tired of feelin’ so fuckin’ alone?”

“Honestly? _Yeah_. Tell him exactly that.”

“Fuckin’ _why_?” He shifts next to her, sits up straighter. His eyebrows furrow for a moment as he looks at her, and there is a small hint of panic that colors his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. But she’s seen this type of reaction from him enough now to recognize it.

She wonders if he recognizes it in her from time to time.

V sighs, shrugs, as she turns towards him. There’s a risk she takes, as she takes his organic hand into her own. His eyes move from her face to their hands. “Could help. Maybe that’s the key to ending all of this, now that you remember. I kinda helped you remember what happened, right? Tellin’ Kerry the truth could be the last piece we need.”

He doesn’t lift his eyes as he replies, “What if it’s not?”

“Let’s not deal in ‘what if’s, okay, Johnny? Just know that I’ve got your back. I mean that.”

Johnny lifts his head again to say something but is interrupted by the door to the dressing room opening up. Kerry Eurodyne comes in, grinning like a mad man, mostly running off the rush of the show he had just put on.

She expects Johnny to pull his hand away when Kerry enters the room, but he doesn’t move. Almost as if he’s terrified to.

Kerry hasn’t picked up on the mood just yet, grinning as he starts rambling, “Hey Johnny, did you hear the—” But then the rocker notices. Kerry’s grin fades as he looked on the two of them on the couch. Eyes looking at Johnny, their hands, and then to V. “Who are you?”

It’s then that V takes her hands away from Johnny, creating some distance between them. She cracks a smile, “His guardian angel.”

That gets a snort from Johnny, and she enjoys the warm feeling it creates for as brief as it lasts. But the small amusement on Johnny’s face fades as he looks to Kerry. “Ker, we need to talk.”

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Yeah.”

She takes that as her cue, as she gives Johnny’s shoulder a pat before she gets off the couch. “This ain’t any of my biz, so I’ll give you guys the room.” She nods to Kerry, who still has _no_ idea who she is, and looks back to Johnny. “I’ll be at the bar waiting if you wanna find me later.”

He doesn’t give any reply other than a nod, as she leaves the dressing room and shuts the door behind her.

It’s not her business to eavesdrop on their conversation, on them going over any issues they have and their history. Even if she _is_ curious, considering.

Instead, she makes her way to the bar. The Red Dirt has mostly cleared out now that the show is over; only a few people still sticking around at the bar itself or outside. Jackie and Misty are gone, and even though she expected them to be, there’s still a weird pang she feels.

When she sits down at the bar, she takes out her holo and messages Jackie. Tells him that she’s sorry that she bailed on them, but she hopes they had a good time. Makes promises to hang out again, promises she knows she wouldn’t keep even without the death loop. Jackie replies, tells her not to worry about it, that they’ll catch up soon.

Half promises that had become their own language as of late, something she used to take comfort in, knowing Jackie would always be around but now she’s not so sure.

More people start to clear out of the venue, as soon as it’s just her sitting at the bar with a beer in front of her, and the bartender chatting with another staff member in the corner. She doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting there, waiting, but after some time she feels a hand on her shoulder.

She turns to her left to see Johnny, sitting on a stool next to her at the bar. There’s emotion that is playing over his features, his eyes are a little bloodshot and damp, but he seems to be at peace. The bartender comes over, puts a beer in front of him, and wanders away again. “Didn’t have to wait,” he says, as he lifts the beer to his lips.

“Where was I supposed to go? That roof across the street?” V smirks, “Both know where we’d end up anyway.”

He chuckled at that, shrugging his shoulders, “Who knows, you could be right. Could have solved our problem.”

“Yeah? Talk went well?”

He takes another drink before he sets the beer down. “Harder than I thought it would be. But…yeah. Got some shit we gotta work on. Not lookin’ forward to the possibility of havin’ that conversation again, but cross that bridge if we get to it. Feel good though. About it, I mean.”

That brings a smile to her face, as she leans her elbow on the bar and rests her chin on her hand. “I’m glad.”

“He wanted to know who you were, though,” Johnny smirks, and raises an eyebrow.

“What did you say?”

He shrugs for a moment, “Said you were important. Left it at that, had other shit to focus on.”

She knows there is a flush to her cheeks, she knows that her face has twisted into some sort of blushing smile that she tries to hide by shifting her hand to cover her lips. As she looks away from him, she feels his fingers brush a piece of fallen hair behind her ears.

She doesn’t realize that she’s leaned into the touch of his fingers until she looks back up to him. She clears her throat, “Johnny, I—”

“Listen. Hate that we’re in this together. But glad it was you stuck with me. Mean that.” How he looks at her now, is how he looked at her on the rollercoaster. Like a magnet, she feels herself gravitating towards him, both moving towards each other as part of the natural progression of things.

Their noses brush against each other, her hand moves to his chest.

There’s something tight around her heart, sharp and twisting.

But it’s not a _good_ sharp feeling like she was getting so used getting while being around him. It’s painful, excruciatingly shooting through her nerves as she immediately gasps out and pushes away from Johnny. The action causes her to fall off her stool to the ground, her hand grasping at her chest desperately as her heart goes into a full attack.

The last thing she sees is Johnny on the floor next to her, holding onto her hand tightly.

**_Flatlined._ **


	9. Chapter 9

Something about the last flatline struck her harder than the others. Ignoring the poetic ironic of a _heart attack_ and the timing of it, she shouldn’t have flatlined at all. Johnny had managed to remember, he worked things out with Kerry. She had been so certain that might have worked.

But at least they’d have the chance to try again. And she’d have Johnny to bounce ideas off of, be able to work together in the loop. She’d feel better knowing that they still had a chance to figure it out.

Then, the panic set in.

What if it worked, but just _not_ for her? What if there was something else keeping her here, and he was free of the loop?

What if she was stuck here alone?

Her thought process was interrupted again by the banging on the door, but it wasn’t the woman who usually came in. That said woman was off to the corner yelling at Johnny that he was trying to get into the woman’s restroom.

V stepped out, the woman pushed inside, and Johnny pulled V into his arms in the dark corner of the bar. “Fuck,” she mutters against his chest before she steps back, “I thought I would be doing this alone. Thought it would have worked for you.”

He shook his head, his hands moving to her shoulders briefly. “Flatlined right after you, but it took longer. Beginnin’ to see why you hated finding me backstage. Felt…”

“…different.” She finishes, and he nods, “Like it was...” She trails off, doesn’t bother ending the sentences and finds herself grateful when he doesn’t finish it for her.

All he does is nod in understanding, silence before he speaks, “What went wrong then?”

She shrugs, as others push around them – he guides them to the end of the bar, where they still are out of the view of the public. Sitting at the middle of the bar are Jackie and Misty, still chatting and flirting with each other. Jackie with the biggest grin on his face, arm around Misty as she tells a story. V thinks back to the promises she made in the last loop that she wasn’t going to keep and knows it’s only a matter of time before she makes them again.

“I don’t know,” she finally replies to Johnny, looking away from her friends and back to him. But he had followed her gaze. A raised eyebrow as he looked to her.

“Got have anythin’ unresolved?”

“Me?” She sounds incredulous, she knows she does. She puts a hand over her heart that had only given out what seemed like minutes ago. “I don’t think I do?”

His eyebrow stays raised, and he doesn’t say anything.

“Okay maybe I don’t…hang out with people enough. Or ever. But I don’t know if that’s…I just have a lot going on. So, I don’t get to stick around for things.” She rubs the back of her neck, shrugs her shoulders.

“Like a secret concert your choombas invited you to?” And there’s the knowing smirk and she wants to hit it off his face. Or something else.

_Fuck._ She’s caught, in a few different ways, and sighs. “Okay. _Fine._ Okay, so what, I hang out with Misty and Jackie and if I can do that the loop ends?”

“Don’t know, V, got a better fuckin’ idea? Flatlined with me hundreds of times,” Johnny shrugged, and started to push her towards Misty and Jackie, his lips against her ear as he spoke, “Go hang with them. Wanna talk to Kerry anyway. Get a second chance at shit.”

She wanted to drag her feet, because what if getting separated from him would mess up the loop? Or what if she was stuck without him remembering her and who she was? But Johnny was stronger than she was, and before she knew it, she was pushed _into_ Misty.

“Hey V!” Misty grinned, and V felt Johnny pat her shoulder before he waved off and walked past her towards the stage. Her eyes stayed on him, watching him move through the crowd, making sure she could still pick him out if things went wrong.

“Hello? Earth to V?” Misty’s hand waved in front of her face, and V frowned.

“Oh, yeah, hey. Sorry, I—”

“Chica, who was that?” Jackie asked, quick to the point, grabbing her arm and pulling her between him and Misty. His arm moved around her shoulder, Misty handed her a beer, and for a moment V tried to enjoy the happiness of being around them. She didn’t do this as much as she should have. It was easier to get caught up in her life of gigs than to mess around with the good that Jackie and Misty had.

“Who, the uh…” V swallowed hard, looking back waving her hand into the crowd, where Johnny had disappeared to. But she couldn’t find him anymore, and she felt the panic rise up in her throat.

“The guy who just got on stage,” Misty laughed, and V’s eyes moved to where Johnny was joining Kerry on stage, the crowd going crazy realizing who was actually here. Kerry looked like he was overjoyed, as Johnny played back up to the songs Kerry was singing.

“V, you tellin’ me you have no idea who that guy is?” Jackie’s voice was filled with amusement, “You own all his fucking records!”

A groan left her lips, as she rubbed at her eyes. Jackie’s hand came slapping down on her shoulder _hard_ , his laughter filling the loud spaces around them more. She changes the subject quickly. She orders them more beers. Kerry and Johnny are jamming out on stage, and the set list goes on a lot longer than the shows had in previous loops.

Jackie tells the story about how he knocked Vik out in a fight; she’s heard it a million times, but still laughed as if it was the first time. Misty spoke of how she fell in love with Jackie, getting him to blush oh so easily to her words. V told stupid stories of her attempts of being a legend before meeting Jackie. There are times during the night that she slips up, almost tells stories of other loops she’s been in, forgetting that there was no way she could explain them in ways to make sense.

But she tells them about riding the rollercoaster; just leaving out key details. She tells them about the street races, she tells them about robbing a bank and _almost_ getting away with it. A grin to her lips as she tells both of them all about the crazy shit that she’s been through, though leaving out who she has been doing it with.

Misty looks at her with bright eyes and a wide smile, Jackie looks at her like he’s figured out some puzzle. “I know these looks,” V starts, but Jackie just gives her another beer and Misty just continues to smile.

The night keeps going, Kerry and Johnny play on, and eventually the owners of the Red Dirt themselves have to put an end to things. The crowd filters out, but Jackie, Misty and V stay at the bar drinking and telling stories.

It’s different than she expects it to go. It almost feels like things could be going in the right direction. The bartender keeps putting drinks in front of them, despite the bar closing for the night. Jackie’s sweet talking them, Misty is trying not to laugh, and V is actually _enjoying_ this. It just feels like there is something missing, that she can’t place.

It’s when she feels a hand to her back, solid and cool, that she finds it. She doesn’t have to look at Jackie’s face to know he’s looking at her with amusement.

“Hey V,” Johnny grins, and she easily grins back. “Want to introduce you,” as he gestures to Kerry behind him.

They’ve met. Kerry doesn’t know that of course, but instead of the confusion of meeting her in a past loop, this time he’s excited grins and sly smirks. Introductions are made, Kerry says that Johnny’s told him a bit about her, and when she looks to Johnny for confirmation, he just shrugs.

She introduces both to Jackie and Misty. Jackie is a rambling mess, completely going off on Kerry about how much he loves his music – Kerry eats it up and more than is willing to listen to it.

Misty has taken Johnny’s organic hand and flipped it palm side up.

He raises an eyebrow, and V tries to intervene as her smile instantly fades, “Mist, you don’t need to—”

But then she grabs V’s hand and does the same, placing them side by side. Misty holds onto their hands with one hand, while the other traces their lifelines, and she gives off a soft sound. “Similar life paths here,” she says, but then taps her fingers to his hand. “But there’s something holding you back, Johnny.” V takes her hand back, looking to Johnny but he’s just staring at Misty as she keeps talking. “Something you feel stuck in, wanting to move forward, but you can’t.”

V takes a step back from them, still staring at Johnny. His eyebrow raises, he doesn’t look at V, but he doesn’t have to.

She knows why he’s stuck, how he’s stuck. Because _she’s_ what is holding him back from getting out of this loop.

It feels like a blur, as she excuses herself and leaves to get some air.

There’s some hard truths she has to face, but her drunk mind can’t focus on a single one, moving so quickly away from her fingertips that she is left with nothing to hold onto. She feels the urge to get away from the bar, get away from the things she doesn’t want to admit to herself just yet.

Like the feeling that the loop gives her the chance to start over each time, get things right. Gives her the opportunity to avoid letting down those around her she always let down. Gives her the idea that each time she sees him waiting for her, that the way he looks at her means something.

She’s terrified of what will happen if they leave the loop.

The thought doesn’t linger long. She doesn’t watch how she’s walking, soon plummeting down an open pothole to the ground below.

**_Flatlined_.**

When she comes back to the same damn mirror that she’s looked into a million times, she sees something she ignored before.

The relief that she’s back. The relief that she can just do this all over again.

The relief that she doesn’t have to leave the loop.

Immediately, her smile fades.


	10. Chapter 10

She stares into the mirror for way too long, not liking what she sees.

But it’s not until she finally realizes that she was never interrupted by a banging on the door, that she thinks there might be something wrong.

When she throws open the door and steps into the bar, she _knows_ something is wrong.

The bar is completely empty, completely silent. The only sound is her boots on the wood floor, echoing against the walls. There’s no band on stage, there’s no rocker singing into the microphone. There’s no sign of Misty and Jackie at the bar, waiting for her each and every loop.

There’s no wily smile from Johnny as he leans against the wall. There’s no cigarette waiting for her to share. There’s no horrible sex joke told immediately. There’s no half-gonked plan for the loop this time around. There’s no sharing of drinks, brushing of arms and fingers against each other not-so-accidentally. There’s no feeling that at least she’s finally not alone.

There’s _nothing_.

It doesn’t stop her from yelling out, “Hello?” as her voice bounces around the empty room, the echo shouting back at her.

She tries to go through the front door to leave, but when she steps through the door she’s just walking right back into the bar. She tries to go through the backstage and gets the same result. She tries every damn door in the place, and nothing leads to an exit. Even the bathroom she always starts her loop in just shoots her right back to the middle of the bar.

The middle of the shitty fucking bar not playing any sort of shitty overproduced music.

But she, at one point, stopped thinking of the Red Dirt as the shitty fucking bar. Even stopped thinking of the music as shitty, though still overproduced. Everything was just the backdrop to what she was experiencing each loop, the new things she was learning.

But there was nothing here.

She had said she didn’t want to leave the loop before, but now? She’s alone. The one thing she always feared of being. Only, she had thought that she would be alone because of her own actions – overworking herself, pushing everyone away, not allowing herself to get close to those she might let down. She already was halfway there.

But to be alone due to the loop? To be stuck here?

She wonders if this is what Johnny felt when they were separated for a loop. Everything here looks as he described it: barren, silent, hollow. No sign of anyone, no sign of him. She needs to get back.

The only way to break a loop is to flatline, and she doesn’t know if she’s strong enough to do that to herself. Or stupid enough to do that to herself. There’s no guarantee that if she gets out of this loop that the next one won’t be awful. That the next one won’t be exactly the same. There is no longer the guarantee that he’ll even be there – he resolved his first flatline, he seems to get more comfortable with speaking to Kerry about things each loop. The next time, he might not even be there. He might not even remember her.

Somehow, _that_ feels worse. Because she had finally felt _seen_ by someone who understood. Who didn’t judge her for her many faults, mostly because he might have more than her at this point.

She sits down at the bar, foot bouncing nervously on the edge of the stool, as she waits. Waits to see if they’re still linked. If he loops, she loops too, wasn’t that what they figured out?

Then what was taking so long? How much longer would she be here?

Suddenly, she loses her vision. It feels like the bar stool has been ripped out from under her, as she goes falling to the ground. But it just feels like endless falling, her heart in her throat, never quite hitting the bottom of the hole she’s speeding down.

Then, she hits it.

**_Flatlined._ **

The loud banging at the bathroom door is a _welcomed_ sound as she throws the door open and goes back out.

Everyone is back in the bar. Kerry is still playing the same damn song he always plays, and she’s never been so happy to hear it. Jackie and Misty are still at the bar, lost in their own little lovesick world.

And waiting for her, pacing back and forth, is Johnny.

“ _Fuck_ , V,” he gets out as she approaches him, and his hands go to her arms. He holds on tight; he swallows hard. There’s relief there, it’s the same relief that she feels too when she looks at him, but then he speaks. “Thought that last one was it.”

She furrows her brows, looking at him with confusion, “What do you mean? What was your loop?”

He guides them outside of the bar, away from the prying eyes of those inside they always so artfully ignore. He takes out a cigarette, lights it. Takes a drag of it before he passes it to her. “You weren’t there. At all.”

His cigarette to her lips, she closes her eyes at the taste, the smell, allowing the smoke to fill her lungs before she pulls back. As she opens her eyes, she lets the smoke out, and passes the cigarette back. He takes it, but then his fingers wrap around her wrist. The need for contact. Something is wrong.

She tells him, “I was in the empty bar. Like how you were before, and—”

He interrupts, “V, no one knew who you were.”

“ _What_?”

She feels his grip on her wrist get a little tighter, “Even asked your choombas who are always at the bar, they had no idea who you were. Never heard of you.”

There’s a lump in her throat, and she tries to move away, but his grip slips, he grabs onto her hand instead. “What do you mean they’ve never heard of me.” The words are rough to get out, stuck. Uncomfortable, as a fear builds.

“Asked if they had seen you. They knew who I was, had no idea who you were.”

“That’s never…happened before. They…didn’t remember me?”

He just shakes his head, he doesn’t reply. There is a moment where things feel calm, still.

Then, a dam breaks, as she rips her hand away from him and storms towards the street, gasping for air that she didn’t know she needed. The confusion and frustration clashes against each other under her skin, her eyes burn, and vision goes blurry.

She goes to step into the street as she hears the familiar car revving its engine in the distance welcoming her to demise. Johnny’s metal hand wraps around her arm again and pulls her back.

“The fuck you doin’?!” His voice is incredulous, he sounds angry, _scared_ as he pulls her back.

“I can fix it!” She replies, eyes wide and speaking with determination, “I can just loop again and—”

“Did you not hear what I fuckin’ said? Thought the last one was it! We can’t keep fuckin’ doin’ this, V!”

“What do you expect me to do, Johnny?” She screams out, gasping. “I can’t stop this!”

“Think you can,” He says, keeping his tone level, to bring her down, to meet him where he is.

“How?”

“Do you trust me?”

It’s a heavy question. Because realistically to those outside of them, they’ve only known each other for few hours. But this feels like they’ve been doing this for a year. This feels like more. She clears her throat, swallowing hard before she answers with a definite, “Yes.”

Gently, he lets go of her arm. “Come on,” he gestures towards the building they’ve gone to so many times before, to return back to the roof. She knows the path they take, and together they do it – he helps her over the pothole, she guides him left when they know a car is coming.

As they reach the stairs on the side of the building, he goes up ahead of her. But instead of going all the way to the familiar roof they’ve been to so many times, he stops one floor below it at a window.

“Are we breakin’ and enterin’ now, Johnny?” She asks, as he easily opens one of the windows, and heads inside. He’s on the other side of the window, holding out a hand to guide her in.

She takes it as she goes through, and he helps to bring her to the floor, his hands resting on her hips for a moment before stepping back. He shuts the window and locks it, as she looks around.

There’s familiar memorabilia around that she knows from past Samurai albums. Posters from old shows they’ve played. A black guitar sits in the corner, covered with stickers, worn from good use. The apartment they are in is well lived in. “Johnny…” She says quietly, as she turns to look at him, “Thought you said you weren’t living across from the Red Dirt.”

“Said I wasn’t hidin’ on the _roof_ of this buildin’. Didn’t lie to you.” He shrugs, “Just…wasn’t completely honest.”

He moves away from her, towards the fridge and pulls out two beers. Opening them, he passes one to her, and gestures for her to sit down. There aren’t many options, so she sits on the edge of his bed. He sits next to her.

“Think that if we’re gonna get out of this, we gotta be honest,” he continues. He lifts the beer to his lips, she watches him as he drinks, and then rests the bottle on his knee. “With ourselves, and each other. I got the first part down.” He points to her with a metal finger, “ _You_ gotta catch up.”

She sighs as she looks away from him, looks down at the beer bottle in her hands.

“I…” she wants to protest. She wants to fight him on this.

But she can’t hold him back from moving on from the loop. Even if she’s terrified to leave it.

“I think you’re right,” she finally says, and turns to look at him. “Let’s be honest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the conclusion of this little ride <3


	11. Chapter 11

Both are silent for a long time. Both waiting for the other to speak first, and when they do speak, it’s at the exact same time. She laughs at that, he smirks, it cuts the tension that might have been building between them. Or, adding to the tension that she had already felt before.

He brings his beer to her lips, and gestures to her, and she takes it as a cue.

“In the spirit of being honest…” She starts, her fingernails tapping against the beer bottle, picking the label, “I don’t... _fuck_ , I don’t want to leave the loop.”

He almost chokes on his beer, as he coughs and looks at her, “ _What_?”

She gives him a sheepish look, “Okay, listen, hear me out.”

“The fuck else am I supposed to do?” But he smirks, raises an eyebrow towards her, and somehow that _calms_ her.

She takes another long drink of her beer, and leans back a bit on the bed, one hand behind her into his sheets. “Outside of this, my life is…quite honestly shit. Sell corpo secrets I stole from Arasaka to Militech, and sometimes what I steal from Militech to Biotechnica, and try to not feel like a shill after the fact. Work fucked up gigs for fixers I fuckin’ hate and can’t get a leg up in this fuckin’ city.”

He snorts, “Impressed by stealing from Arasaka, not so hot on working for the other corps, V.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not proud of it. But it’s…I wanna say it’s what I’m good at, but it’s not. I fumbled into it. Jackie was one of the people who helped me on a job a few years back, we got close then. Him and Misty took me in, essentially. But I got this habit, that when things get good and comfortable, I start packin’ up to cut and run.” She shifts how she is sitting, she finishes the beer in her hand and sets the bottle on the floor, before she stands up and paces away from the bed. 

On the bed, she sees Johnny’s leg bouncing on the floor, but he doesn’t say anything. There’s something on his face that she can’t read.

But she keeps talking.

“So, okay, they invite me to the show tonight. Jackie says that he wants to hang out because he doesn’t see me anymore.”

“Tells you that you gotta get a life,” Johnny reminds her of what she said before, and she nods.

“Yeah. Only, there’s more to it. Tells me before we get to the show that him and Misty are leaving town. Gonna go on some trip, maybe settle down outside of the city, and…it’s just another good thing leavin’ me. Or, I guess tryin’ to leave me, so I get the idea in my head that I gotta leave before they do. Bailed out on the show and ended up in the loop with you.” She’s pacing a damn hole into his floor, and she doesn’t look at him as she continues, “I don’t want to leave the loop because then I’m not alone. They’re still…here. And,” V finally turns to look at him, “I got you here too. And I don’t know, shit sounds…just feels like you _see_ me. When no one else does. And if we get out of this loop, I lose Jackie and Misty.”

She takes a deep breath in.

“And honestly,” She gestures towards him, as he finishes his beer and drops it on the floor, standing up to go towards her. “I end up losing you too. You’re a fuckin’ _rockstar_ , you’re fuckin’ worshipped! God damn mystery gone missin’ for years, and you’re _back_ , people are gonna…why the fuck would you stick around some washed-up merc you flatlined with more than a handful of times?”

“Why _wouldn’t_ I stick around? What makes you think people want a washed-up rocker?” He shoots back, “Don’t like how you’re talkin’, V.”

“Why? Cause it’s the truth?”

“Cause it’s like lookin’ in the fuckin’ mirror! _Hate_ that.” Johnny moves to the window, cracking it open again as he grabs a pack of cigarettes. Lighting up once more, but he doesn’t offer it to her this time, and she doesn’t ask. “Shit isn’t as good for me as you think. Got a lot of history that would make your head spin, and I ain’t spillin’ it all now, despite already tellin’ you most of it. But the cut and run when shit gets good? That’s me. Leavin’ before shit leaves you? That’s _me_. _Fuck_ , already told you my state of mind tonight, before all this started. Was planning the ultimate goodbye, to make the weight go away.”

He broadly gestures to the apartment, “Been hidin’ here for years, barely leavin’. Before that, was in Pacifica. Pistis Sophia, knowin’ no one but me was there. Runnin’ from problems I coulda solved if I just fuckin’ asked for help.” There’s a bitter laugh that escapes his lips, as he ashes the cigarette out the window.

His hand extends to her, cigarette out for the taking. She reaches for it, but before she can take it, he tosses it out the open window and grabs her wrist. He pushes her against the wall, his fingers pinning her wrists to her side. His eyes stare into hers, and she swallows hard. “We get out of this loop, I’m not gonna fuck off. Not gonna ruin this, whatever the fuck we got goin’. Be an idiot if I did.”

“You’d seriously waste your time with—”

“Already fuckin’ told you,” he interrupts, a growl to his voice that shoots through her, as she instinctually arches off the wall and presses against him. He retaliates by pushing her against the wall further, pressing his body against hers. She lets out a little gasp, and his voice turns softer, deeper, “Think we’ve gone through too much fucked up shit to cut and run. Ain’t doin’ that.”

She swallows hard, eyes moving from his, to his lips, and back again, heat pooling. He moves her arms to above her head, his metal hand pinning both wrists down as he drops his other hand to her hip. His fingers move under the hem of her shirt, fingers touching her stomach. “Johnny…”

“Don’t you wanna see what it could be,” he says roughly, sounding already half gone, as he leans in towards her. Lips only inches apart, “if we weren’t flatlinin’ all the time?”

She’s not sure which one of them moves first, but their lips crash hard against each other as he grinds against her. His hand slips up her shirt, and she wraps a leg around his to pull her closer to him. The kiss is almost like the rollercoaster, but this time she’s not certain that they’re going to crash into something and explode. This time everything feels so fucking uncertain that all she has to do is trust him, and she does.

The kiss quickly turns rough, turns passionate and sloppy. Her hands don’t stay pinned to the wall long, as he roughly pulls her jacket off, and her shirt goes with it. She pulls his shirt over his head and lets her nails scratch down his chest, catching against the dog tags he wears for a moment; she catches as his eyes grow darker as he ducks his head and kisses her neck.

There’s pain to how he bites down, how he sucks against her skin to mark her, but something about it makes her feel so fucking alive that she moans out sinfully. The knot that she feels is only getting larger, as she writhes against him, clothing getting in the way of the friction she so desperately wants and needs.

Her hand slides down to cup him over his pants, already incredibly hard, and both of them groan; him against her neck, her loudly into the air, and that causes them to push apart.

Clothes are quickly discarded before he shoves her against the wall again, grabbing at her ass and pulling her up. She wraps her legs tight around his waist, his cock sliding against how wet she already is, and the sensation of it almost pushes her over the edge.

He doesn’t stretch her; she doesn’t _want_ him to. There’s only a short warning, a rough kiss, before he enters her and starts to fuck her rough against the wall. She screams out at the pain, at relentless and erratic pace, matching him as she feels him move in and out of her. Slamming into her as if there is nothing else but her, and she feels _alive_. She feels _whole_ , and the sensation of it almost makes her cry.

Instead, she screams out in pleasure, before it’s muffled by his demanding kiss on her lips. She bites his lip and pulls; he fucks her harder in retaliation. She digs her nails into his skin, she marks him in her own way, and he lets out the filthiest noise that almost matches the sinful sounds coming from their bodies slamming into each other repeatedly.

When she tries to chase her own release, to slip a hand between them, he snatches her wrist and pulls both her hands above her head again. He pulls out of her, and she whines at how empty she feels, until he carries her into the bed and throws her down on her back.

She lands with a bit of a bounce, but she doesn’t have time to react once his head is between her thighs, devouring her. She tries to arch up against him, but both his hands slide up to her stomach, holding her down as he continues to build her towards climaxing.

When she reaches it, she screams out his name, her fingers weave into his hair and pull. He rises from his knees and aligns himself with her before he slams into her again, fucking her through her orgasm, as she feels him start to pulse inside her.

They ride it out together, and he collapses against her as they cool down, her arms wrapping tight around him as she kisses him. When he pulls out finally and rolls off her, both of them stare at the ceiling panting. Then, she lets out a breath of a laugh, when she turns to look at him, he’s just grinning at her.

He takes her hand in his, raising it to his lips, and kisses it. An act of softness she didn’t expect, after how rough they just went at it.

It’s a bit before they go again. The second time is softer, but still as passionate. Softer caresses, exploring parts of themselves they hadn’t explored yet. Still marking, still causing little points of pain as a reminder to both of them that they’re still _here_ , that they haven’t flatlined. And it terrifies her, to know that they’re so close to the end of the day, that if the loop still happens, it will be like _this_ never happened.

But she tells herself that she’ll remember. Then, as if he read her mind, he tells her there’s no way he’s going to forget her, not after all the shit they’ve just gone through. That he’d go through thousands more loops if he had to, if it was what it took to keep him by her side. He talks of places he wants to take her to, things he wants to show her. She tells him of things she wants to do with him, things she’d like to do _to_ him. That conversation starts another go, as he asks her to demonstrate _exactly_ what she has in mind with a devious grin on his lips.

She does so, with pleasure.

They lose themselves in each other until both lay exhausted in the bed. He shifts to rest his back, with her laying on his chest, arms and legs wrapped around each other. Idly talking about anything that comes to their minds, her fingers running up and down his chest. His fingers drawing little shapes into her arm as he talks. Soon, they both fall asleep, bodies entwined.

Eventually, the sun rises.

Rays of a new morning come through the window, warmly resting on her eyes. She stretches her body out, only to realize she’s not alone. She opens her eyes, blinking against the sun, and as she shifts, Johnny does as well.

His arm curls more around her waist, pulling her closer to him, muttering something in the grogginess of sleep. She whispers his name against his skin. Both waking up, as he shifts their positions, resting her on her back as he presses his lips to her neck.

But then, realization hits them at the same time. He lifts his head, looks around them, before he looks back down at her beneath him.

Yawning sunlight pours in through the windows, casting a ray of sun over the bed and over them. There is no flatline, there is no return to their loops. There’s no darkness, there’s no pounding of rock music. It is just them, in Johnny’s hidden apartment across from the Red Dirt, wrapped up in each other.

Above her, he grins, sun coming in around him.

She loves seeing him in this light.

Relief plays on both of their features, a shared smile before both move at the same time. He kisses her with the passion of the first time, and she kisses him back with the knowledge that there’s more for them going forward.

A new start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 thank you all for reading! i've really enjoyed writing this little story, so i've loved seeing all the comments and kudos coming in! i still am so overwhelmed at the reaction to this story and others, so i truly appreciate all the love.
> 
> also, a very special thank you to ruruie because without her, this story wouldn't even exist! so all of my <3 and thanks to her for always being my cheerleader and support, for convincing me to write this and explore the ideas i had. (and for spending way too long clowning with me on the different ways they could flatline to hilarious results)
> 
> see you all in the next story!


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